BfflPPlfflPfWililflP^HHIIffiiffili 


THE    TALE    OF 


THE  GREAT   MUTINY 


THE   TALE   OF 

THE  GREAT  MUTINY 


BY 


W.  H.  FITCHETT,  B.A.,  LL.D. 

AUTHOR   OF    "deeds   THAT   WON   THE  EMPIRE,"    "  FIGHTS   FOR 


>>    i( 


the  flag,        how  england  saved  europe, 
"Wellington's  men,"  etc. 


WITH   PORTRAITS  AND  MAPS 


NEW    YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1901 


UOAN  STACK 

Printed  by 

Ballantyne,   Hanson  &^  Co. 

Edinburgh 


F^7    ■ 


CONTENTS 


HAi>0 


CHAP. 

I.  MUXGUL    PAXDY  .  .  ,  . 

II.  DELHI  ...... 

III.  STAMPING    OUT    MUTINY 

IV.  CAWXPORE  :     THE    SIEGE 

V.  CAWXPORE :     THE    MURDER    GHAUT 

VI.  LUCKXOAV    AXD    SIR    HEXRY    LAWREXCE 


VII.    LUCKXOW    AXD    HAVELOCK 


VIII.    LUCKXOW    AXD    SIR    COLIX    CAMPBELL 


IX.    THE    SEPOY    IX    THE    OPEX 


X.    DELHI  :     HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD 


XI.    DELHI  :     THE    LEAP    OX    THE    CITY 


XII.    DELHI  :     RETRIBUTIOX 


XIII.    THE    STORMIXG    OF    LUCKXOW 


IXDEX 


PAGE 
I 

34 

65 

84 

III 

148 

185 

209 

237 
263 

305 


n  '^  J 


345 


o  /  o 


807 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIELD-MARSHAL  EARL  ROBERTS,  V.C.,  G.c.B.     .         .     Frontispiece 

LIEUTENANT   GEORGE   "WILLOUOHBY  .  .        To  fcice  JXige      40 

SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE „  1 48  | 

! 

MAJOR-GENERAL    SIR    HENRY    HAYELOCK,    K.C.B.  „  1 84 

LORD    LAWRENCE „  264  { 

MAJOR-GENERAL   SIR    HERBERT    EDWARDES,  K.C.B.  „  270 

BRIGADIER-GENERAL   JOHN    NICHOLSON   .  .  .,  298  I 

I 
LIEUTENANT-GENERAL  SIR  JAMES  OUTRAM,  BART.  .,  350  | 


MAPS 

PAGn 

CAWNPORE,  JUNE  1 857 87 

CAWNPORE,  GENERAL    WHEELER's    ENTRENCHMENTS      .            .  87 

LUCKNOW,   1857 186 

DELHI,  1857 275 

MAP   SHOWING   THE    DISTRIBUTION    OF    TRPOPS,      . 

MAY  I,  1857 To  face 'page  370 


vn 


FIELD-MARSHAL   EARL   ROBERTS,   V.C.,    G.C.B. 


From  an  engraving  of  the  portrait  by  W.   W.   Ouless,   R.A.,  by  permission  of 

Henry  Graves  &  Co.,  Ltd. 


THE 

TALE  OF  THE   GREAT  MUTINY 

CHAPTER   I 

MUNGUL     PANDY 

THE  scene  is  Barrackpore,  the  date  March  29, 
1857.  It  is  Sunday  afternoon;  but  on  the 
dusty  Hoor  of  the  parade-ground  a  drama  is  being 
enacted  which  is  suggestive  of  anything  but  Sab- 
bath peace.  The  quarter-guard  of  the  34th  Native 
Infantry — tall  men,  erect  and  soldierl}^,  and  nearly 
all  high-caste  Brahmins  —  is  drawn  up  in  regular 
order.  Behind  it  chatters  and  sways  and  eddies  a 
confused  mass  of  Sepoys,  in  all  stages  of  dress  and 
undress ;  some  armed,  some  unarmed ;  but  all  fer- 
menting with  excitement.  Some  thirty  yards  in 
front  of  the  line  of  the  34th  swaggers  to  and  fro  a 
Sepoy  named  Mungul  Pandy.  He  is  half-drunk 
with  bhang,  and  wholly  drunk  with  religious  fana- 
ticism. Chin  in  air,  loaded  musket  in  hand,  he 
struts  backwards  and  forwards,  at  a  sort  of  half- 
dance,  shouting  in  shrill  and  nasal  monotone,  "  Come 

A 


2  THE    TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

out,  you  blackguards  !  Turn  out,  all  of  you !  The 
English  are  upon  us.  Through  biting  these  cart- 
ridges we  shall  all  be  made  infidels ! " 

The  man,  in  fact,  is  in  that  condition  of  mingled 
bhang  and  "nerves"  which  makes  a  Malay  run 
amok;  and  every  shout  from  his  lips  runs  like  a 
wave  of  sudden  flame  through  the  brains  and  along 
the  nerves  of  the  listening  crowd  of  fellow-Sepoys. 
And  as  the  Sepoys  off  duty  come  running  up  from 
every  side,  the  crowd  grows  ever  bigger,  the  excite- 
ment more  intense,  the  tumult  of  chattering  voices 
more  passionate.  A  human  powder  magazine,  in  a 
word,  is  about  to  explode. 

Suddenly  there  appears  upon  the  scene  the  Eng- 
lish adjutant,  Lieutenant  Baugh.  A  runner  has 
brought  the  neivs  to  him  as  he  lies  in  the  sultry 
quiet  of  the  Sunday  afternoon  in  his  quarters.  The 
Engflish  officer  is  a  man  of  decision.  A  saddled 
horse  stands  ready  in  the  stable;  he  thrusts  loaded 
pistols  into  the  holsters,  buckles  on  his  sword,  and 
gallops  to  the  scene  of  trouble.  The  sound  of 
galloping  hoofs  turns  all  Sepoy  eyes  up  the  road; 
and  as  that  red-coated  figure,  the  symbol  of  military 
authority,  draws  near,  excitement  through  the  Sepoy 
crowd  goes  up  uncounted  degrees.  They  are  about 
to  witness  a  duel  between  revolt  and  discipline, 
between  a  mutineer  and  an  adjutant ! 

Mungul  Pandy  has  at  least  one  quality  of  a  good 
soldier.     He  can  face  peril  coolly.     He  steadies  him- 


MUNGUL   PANDY  3 

self,  and  grows  suddenly  silent.  He  stands  in  the 
track  of  the  galloping  horse,  musket  at  shoulder, 
the  man  himself  moveless  as  a  bronze  image.  And 
steadily  the  Englishman  rides  down  upon  him !  The 
Sepoy's  musket  suddenly  flashes ;  the  galloping  horse 
swerves  and  stumbles ;  horse  and  man  roll  in  the 
white  dust  of  the  road.  But  the  horse  only  has 
been  hit,  and  the  adjutant  struggles,  dusty  and 
bruised,  from  under  the  fallen  beast,  plucks  a  loaded 
pistol  from  the  holster,  and  runs  straight  at  the 
mutineer.  Within  ten  paces  of  him  he  lifts  his 
pistol  and  fires.  There  is  a  flash  of  red  pistol-flame, 
a  puff  of  white  smoke,  a  gleam  of  whirling  sword- 
blade.  But  a  man  who  has  just  scrambled  up, 
half-stunned,  from  a  fallen  horse,  can  scarcely  be  ex- 
pected to  shine  as  a  marksman.  Baugh  has  missed 
his  man,  and  in  another  moment  is  himself  cut  down 
by  Mungul  Bandy's  tulwar.  At  this  sight  a  Moham- 
medan Sepoy — Mungul  Bandy  was  a  Brahmin — runs 
out  and  catches  the  uplifted  wrist  of  the  victorious 
Mungul.  Here  is  one  Sepoy,  at  least,  who  cannot 
look  on  and  see  his  Ens^lish  officer  slain — least  of  all 
by  a  cow- worshipping  Hindu  ! 

Asfain  the  sound  of  runninix  feet  is  heard  on  the 
road.  It  is  the  English  sergeant-major,  who  has 
followed  his  officer,  and  he,  too — red  of  face,  scant 
of  breath,  but  plucky  of  spirit — charges  straight  at 
the  mutinous  Bandy.  But  a  sergeant-major,  stout 
and  middle-aged,  who  has   run  in   uniform   three- 


4  THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

quarters  of  a  mile  on  an  Indian  road  and  under 
an  Indian  sun,  is  scarcely  in  good  condition  for 
engaging  in  a  single  combat  with  a  bhang-mad- 
ened  Sepoy,  and  he,  in  turn,  goes  down  under  the 
mutineer's  tulwar. 

How  the  white  teeth  gleam,  and  the  black  eyes 
flash,  through  the  crowd  of  excited  Sepoys !  The 
clamour  of  voices  takes  a  new  shrillness.  Two 
sahibs  are  down  before  their  eyes,  under  the 
victorious  arm  of  one  of  their  comrades !  The 
men  who  form  the  quarter-guard  of  the  34th,  at 
the  orders  of  their  native  officer,  run  forward  a  few 
paces  at  the  double,  but  they  do  not  attempt  to 
seize  the  nuitineer.  Their  sympathies  are  with  him. 
They  halt ;  they  sway  to  and  fro.  The  nearest 
smite  with  the  butt-end  of  their  nmskets  at  the 
two  wounded  Englishmen. 

A  cluster  of  British  officers  by  this  time  is  on  the 
scene;  the  colonel  of  the  34th  himself  has  come 
up,  and  naturally  takes  command.  He  orders  the 
men  of  the  quarter-guard  to  seize  the  mutineers, 
and  is  told  by  the  native  officer  in  charge  that  the 
men  "will  not  go  on."  The  colonel  is,  unhappily,  not 
of  the  stuff  of  which  heroes  are  made.  He  looks 
through  his  spectacles  at  Mungul  Pandy.  A  six- 
foot  Sepoy  in  open  revolt,  loaded  nuisket  in  hand — 
himself  loaded  more  dangerously  by  fanaticism 
strongly  flavoured  with  bhang — while  a  thousand 
excited  Sepoys  look  on  trembling  with  angry  sym- 


MUNGUL   PANDY  5 

pathy,  does  not  make  a  clieerful  spectacle.  "  I  felt 
it  useless,"  says  the  bewildered  colonel,  in  his  officio! 
report  after  the  incident,  "going  on  any  further  in 
the  matter.  ...  It  would  have  been  a  useless 
sacrifice  of  life  to  order  a  European  officer  of  the 
guard  to  seize  him.  ...  I  left  the  guard  and  re- 
ported the  matter  to  the  brigadier."  Unhappy 
colonel !  He  may  have  had  his  red-tape  virtues,  but 
he  was  clearly  not  the  man  to  suppress  a  mutiny. 
The  mutiny,  in  a  word,  suppressed  him !  And  let 
it  be  imagined  how  the  spectacle  of  that  hesitating 
colonel  added  a  new  element  of  wonderinsf  delic^ht 
to  the  huge  crowd  of  swaying  Sepoys. 

At  this  moment  General  Hearsey,  the  brigadier 
in  charge,  rides  on  to  the  parade-ground:  a  red-faced, 
wrathful,  hard-fighting,  iron-nerved  veteran,  with 
two  sons,  of  blood  as  warlike  as  their  father's,  riding 
behind  him  as  aides.  Hearsey,  with  quick  military 
glance,  takes  in  the  whole  scene — the  mob  of  excited 
Sepoys,  the  sullen  quarter-guard,  the  two  red-coats 
lying  in  the  road,  and  the  victorious  Mungul  Pandy, 
musket  in  hand.  As  he  rode  up  somebody  called 
out,  '■  Have  a  care ;  his  musket  is  loaded."  To 
which  the  General  replied,  with  military  brevity, 
"  Damn  his  nuisket ! "  "  An  oath,"  says  Trevelyan, 
"  concerning  which  every  true  Englishman  will  make 
the  customary  invocation  to  the  recording  angel." 

Mungul  Pandy  covered  the  General  with  his 
musket.     Hearsey  found  time  to  say  to  his  son,  "  If 


6      THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

I  fall,  John,  rush  in  and  put  him  to  death  somehow." 
Then,  pulling  up  his  horse  on  the  flank  of  the 
quarter-guard,  he  plucked  a  pistol  from  his  holster, 
levelled  it  straight  at  the  head  of  the  native  officer, 
and  curtly  ordered  the  men  to  advance  and  seize 
the  mutineer.  The  level  pistol,  no  doubt,  had  its 
own  logic ;  but  more  effective  than  even  the  steady 
and  tiny  tube  was  the  face  that  looked  from  behind 
it,  with  command  and  iron  courage  in  every  line. 
That  masterful  British  will  instantly  asserted  itself. 
The  loose  line  of  the  quarter-guard  stiffened  with 
instinctive  obedience;  the  men  stepped  forward; 
and  Mungul  Pandy,  with  one  unsteady  glance  at 
Hearsey's  stern  visage,  turned  Avith  a  quick  move- 
ment the  muzzle  of  his  gun  to  his  own  breast, 
thrust  his  naked  toe  into  the  trigger,  and  fell,  self- 
shot.  He  survived  to  be  hanged,  with  due  official 
ceremonies,  seven  days  afterwards. 

It  was  a  true  instinct  which,  after  this,  taught 
the  British  soldier  to  call  every  mutinous  Sepoy  a 
"  Pandy."  That  incident  at  Barrackpore  is  really 
the  history  of  the  Indian  Mutiny  in  little.  All  its 
elements  are  there :  the  bhang-stimulated  fanaticism 
of  the  Sepoy,  with  its  quick  contagion,  running 
through  all  Sepoy  ranks;  the  hasty  rush  of  the 
solitary  officer,  gallant,  but  ill-fated,  a  single  man 
trying  to  suppress  a  regiment.  Here,  too,  is  the 
colonel  of  the  34tli,  who,  with  a  cluster  of  regiments 
on  the  point  of  mutiny,  decides  that  it  is  "useless" 


MUNGUL   PANDY  7 

to  face  a  dangerously  excited  Sepoy  armed  with  a 
musket,  and  retires  to  "  report "  the  business  to  his 
brigadier.  He  is  the  type  of  that  faihu^e  of  official 
nerve — fortunately  very  rare — Avhich  gave  the  Mutiny 
its  early  successes.     General  Hearsey,  again,  with  his 

grim  "  D his  musket ! "  supplies  the  example  of 

that  courage,  swift,  fierce,  and  iron-nerved,  that  in 
the  end  crushed  the  Mutiny  and  restored  the  British 
Empire  in  India. 

The  Great  Mutiny,  as  yet,  has  found  neither  its 
final  historian,  nor  its  sufficient  poet.  What  other 
nation  can  show  in  its  record  such  a  cycle  of  heroism 
as  that  which  lies  in  the  history  of  the  British  in 
India  between  May  lo,  1857 — ^^^^  ^^^te  of  the  Meerut 
outbreak,  and  the  true  beginning  of  the  Mutiny — and 
November  i,  1858,  when  the  Queen's  proclamation 
officially  marked  its  close  ?  But  the  heroes  in 
that  great  episode — the  men  of  Lucknow,  and  Delhi, 
and  Arrah,  the  men  who  marched  and  fought  under 
Havelock,  who  held  the  Ridge  at  Delhi  under  Wilson, 
who  stormed  the  Alumbagh  under  Clyde — though 
they  could  make  history,  could  not  write  it.  There 
are  a  hundred  "  Memoirs,"  and  "  Journals,"  and  "  His- 
tories "  of  the  great  revolt,  but  the  Mutiny  still  waits 
for  its  Thucydides  and  its  Napier.  Trevelyan's  "  Cawn- 
pore,"  it  is  true,  will  hold  its  readers  breathless  with  its 
fire,  and  movement,  and  graphic  force ;  but  it  deals 
with  only  one  picturesque  and  dreadful  episode  of 
the  Great  Mutiny.     The  "  History  of  the  Mutiny,"  by 


8  THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

Kaye  and  Malleson,  is  laborious,  honest,  accurate; 
but  no  one  can  pretend  that  it  is  very  readable.  It 
has  Kinglake's  diffuseness  without  Kinglake's  literary 
charm.  The  work,  too,  is  a  sort  of  literary  duet  of  a 
very  controversial  sort.  Colonel  Malleson,  from  the 
notes,  continually  contradicts  Sir  John  Kaye  in  the 
text,  and  he  does  it  with  a  bluntness,  and  a  diligence, 
which  have  quite  a  humorous  effect. 

Not  only  is  the  Mutiny  without  an  historian,  but 
it  remains  without  any  finally  convincing  analysis 
of  its  causes.  Justin  McCarthy's  summary  of  the 
causes  of  the  Mutiny,  as  given  in  his  "  History  of  Our 
Own  Times,"  is  a  typical  example  of  wrong-headed 
judgment.  Mr.  McCarthy  contemplates  the  Mutiny 
through  the  lens  of  his  own  politics,  and  almost  re- 
gards it  with  complacency  as  a  mere  struggle  for 
Home  Rule !  It  was  not  a  Mutiny,  he  says,  like  that 
at  the  Nore ;  it  was  a  revolution,  like  that  in  France 
at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  It  was  "  a 
national  and  relisfious  war,"  a  risino^  of  the  manv 
races  of  India  against  the  too  oppressive  Saxon.  The 
native  princes  were  in  it  as  well  as  the  native  soldiers. 

The  plain  facts  of  the  case  are  fatal  to  that  theory. 
The  struggle  was  confined  to  one  Presidency  out  of 
three.  Only  two  dynastic  princes — Nana  Sahib  and 
the  Ranee  of  Jhansi — joined  in  the  outbreak.  The 
people  in  the  country  districts  were  passive ;  the 
British  revenue,  except  over  the  actual  field  of  strife, 
was   regularly   paid.      If  their   own   trained   native 


MUNGUL    PANDY  9 

soldiery  turned  agcainst  the  British,  other  natives 
throno-cd  in  thousands  to  their  flao^.  A  hundred 
examples  might  be  given  Avhere  native  loyalty  and 
valour  saved  the  situation  for  the  English. 

There  were  Sepoys  on  both  sides  of  the  entrench- 
ment at  Lucknow.  Counting  camp  followers,  native 
servants,  &c.,  there  were  two  black  faces  to  every  white 
face  under  the  British  flag  which  fluttered  so  proudly 
over  the  historic  Ridge  at  Delhi.  The  "  protected  " 
Sikh  chiefs,  by  their  fidelity,  kept  British  authority 
from  temporary  collapse  betwixt  the  Jumna  and  the 
Sutlej.  They  formed  what  Sir  Richard  Temple  calls 
"  a  political  breakwater,"  on  which  the  fury  of  rebel- 
lious Hindustan  broke  in  vain.  The  Chief  of  Pattiala 
employed  5000  troops  in  guarding  the  trunk  road 
betAvixt  the  Punjaub  and  Delhi,  along  which  rein- 
forcements and  warlike  supplies  were  flowing  to  the 
British  force  on  the  Rido-e.  This  enabled  the  whole 
strength  of  the  British  to  be  concentrated  on  the 
sieg^e.  The  Chief  of  Jhind  was  the  first  native  ruler 
who  appeared  in  the  field  with  an  armed  force  on  the 
British  side,  and  his  troops  took  part  in  the  final 
assault  on  Delhi.  Golab  Singh  sent  from  his  princi- 
pality, stretching  along  the  foot  of  the  Himalayas, 
strong  reinforcements  to  the  British  troops  besieging 
Delhi.  "  The  sight  of  these  troops  moving  against 
the  mutineers  in  the  darkest  hour  of  British  fortunes 
produced,"  says  Sir  Richard  Temple,  "  a  profound 
moral  effect  on  the  Punjaub." 


10     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

If  John  Lawrence  had  to  disband  or  suppress 
36,000  mutinous  Sepoys  in  the  Punjaub,  he  was  able 
to  enhst  from  Ghoorkas  and  Sikhs  and  the  wild 
tribes  on  the  Afi^han  borders  more  than  another 
36,000  to  take  their  places.  He  fed  the  scanty  and 
gallant  force  which  kept  the  British  flag  flying  before 
Delhi  with  an  ever-floAving  stream  of  native  soldiers 
of  suflicient  fidelity.  At  the  time  of  the  Mutiny 
there  were  38,000  British  soldiers  in  a  population 
of  180,000,000.  If  the  Mutiny  had  been  indeed  a 
"  national "  uprising,  what  chances  of  survival  would 
the  handful  of  British  have  had  ? 

It  is  quite  true  that  the  Mutiny,  in  its  later  stages, 
drew  to  itself  political  forces,  and  took  a  political 
aspect.  The  Hindu  Sepoy,  says  Herbert  Edwardes, 
"  having  mutinied  about  a  cartridge,  had  nothing  to 
propose  for  an  Empire,  and  fell  in,  of  necessity,  with 
the  only  policy  Avhich  was  feasible  at  the  moment,  a 
Mohammedan  king  of  Delhi.  And  so,  with  a  revived 
Mogul  dynasty  at  its  head,  the  Mutiny  took  the  form 
of  a  struGfsie  between  the  Moslem  and  the  Christian 
for  empire,  and  this  agitated  every  village  in  which 
there  was  a  mosque  or  a  mollah."  But  the  emergence 
of  the  Mogul  dynasty  in  the  struggle  was  an  after- 
thought, not  to  say,  an  accident.  The  old  king  at 
Delhi,  discrowned  and  almost  forgotten,  was  caught 
up  by  the  mutineers  as  a  weapon  or  a  flag. 

The  outbreak  Avas  thus,  at  the  beginning,  a  purely 
military  mutiny ;  but  its  complexion  and  character 


MUNGUL    PANDY  I  I 

later  on  were  affected  by  local  circumstances.  In 
Oude,  for  example,  tlie  Mutiny  was  welcomed,  as  it 
seemed  to  offer  those  dispossessed  by  the  recent  an- 
nexation, a  chance  of  revenge.  At  Delhi  it  found  a 
centre  in  the  old  king's  palace,  an  inspiration  in 
Mohammedan  fanaticism,  and  a  nominal  leader  in 
the  representative  of  the  old  Mogul  dynasty.  So  the 
Mutiny  grcAv  into  a  new  struggle  for  empire  on  the 
part  of  some  of  the  Mohammedan  princes. 

Many  of  the  contributing  causes  of  the  Mutiny  arc 
clear  enough.  Discipline  had  grown  perilously  lax 
throughout  Bengal ;  and  the  Bengal  troops  were,  of 
all  who  marched  under  the  Company's  flag,  the  most 
dangerous  when  once  they  got  out  of  hand.  They  con- 
sisted mainly  of  high-caste  Brahmins  and  Rajpoots. 
They  burned  with  caste  pride.  They  were  of  incredible 
arrogance.  The  regiments,  too,  were  made  up  largely 
of  members  of  the  same  clan,  and  each  regiment  had 
its  own  complete  staff  of  native  officers.  Conspiracy 
was  easy  in  such  a  body.  Secrets  were  safe.  Inte- 
rests and  passions  were  common.  When  the  British 
officers  had  all  been  slaughtered  out,  the  regiment,  as 
a  fighting  machine,  was  yet  perfect.  Each  regiment 
was  practically  a  unit,  knit  together  by  ties  of  com- 
mon blood,  and  speech,  and  faith,  ruled  by  common 
superstitions,  and  swayed  by  common  passions. 

The  men  had  the  petulance  and  the  ignorance  of 
children.  They  believed  that  the  entire  population 
of  England  consisted  of  100,000  souls.     When  the 


12     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

r 

first  regiment  of  Higlilanders  landed,  the  whisper  ran 
across  the  whole  Presidency,  that  there  were  no  more 
men  in  England,  and  that,  in  default  of  men,  the 
women  had  been  sent  out !  Later  on,  says  Trevelyan, 
the  native  mind  evolved  another  theory  to  explain 
the  Highlanders'  kilts.  They  wore  petticoats,  it  was 
whispered,  as  a  public  and  visible  symbol  that  their 
mission  was  to  take  vengeance  for  the  murder  of 
Enoflish  ladies. 

Many  causes  combined  to  enervate  military  dis- 
cipline. There  had  been  petty  mutinies  again  and 
again,  unavenged,  or  only  half  avenged.  Mutineers 
had  been  petted,  instead  of  being  shot  or  hanged. 
Lord  Dalhousie  had  weakened  the  despotic  authority 
of  the  commandinof  officers,  and  had  tausrht  the 
Sepoy  to  appeal  to  the  Government  against  his 
officers. 

Now  the  Sepoy  has  one  Celtic  qualit}^ :  his  loyalty 
must  have  a  personal  object.  He  will  endure,  or 
even  love,  a  despot,  but  it  must  be  a  despot  he  can 
see  and  hear.  He  can  be  ruled  ;  but  it  must  be  by  a 
person,  not  by  a  "  system."  When  the  commander  of  a 
regiment  of  Sepoys  ceased  to  be  a  despot,  the  symbol 
and  centre  of  all  authority,  and  became  only  a  knot  in 
a  line  of  official  red  tape,  ho  lost  the  respect  of  his 
Sepoys,  and  the  power  to  control  them.  Said  Rajah 
Maun  Singh,  in  a  remarkable  letter  to  the  Talookdars 
of  his  province :  "  There  used  to  be  twenty  to  twenty- 
five   British  officers  to  every  looo  men,  and  these 


MUNGUL    PANDY  I  3 

officers  were  subordinate  to  one  single  man.  But 
nowadays  there  are  looo  officers  and  looo  kings 
among  looo  men:  the  men  are  officers  and  kings 
themselves,  and  when  such  is  the  case  there  are  no 
soldiers  to  fight." 

Upon  this  mass  of  armed  men,  who  had  lost  the 
first  of  soldierly  habits,  obedience,  and  who  Avere 
fermenting  with  pride,  fanaticism,  and  ignorance, 
there  blew  what  the  Hindus  themselves  called  a 
"  Devil's  wind,"  charged  with  a  thousand  deadly 
influences.  The  wildest  rumours  ran  from  barracks 
to  barracks.  One  of  those  mysterious  and  authorless 
predictions  which  run  before,  and  sometimes  cause, 
great  events  was  current.  Plassey  was  fought  in 
1757;  the  English  raj,  the  prediction  ran,  would 
last  exactly  a  century;  so  1857  must  see  its  fall. 
Whether  the  prophecy  was  Hindu  or  Mohammedan 
cannot  be  decided ;  but  it  had  been  current  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  and  both  Hindu  and  Moham- 
medan quoted  it  and  believed  it.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  great  Company  did  actuall}-  expire  in  1857  ! 

Good  authorities  hold  that  the  greased  cartridges 
were  something  more  than  the  occasion  of  the  Mutiny; 
they  were  its  supreme  producing  cause.  The  history 
of  the  greased  cartridges  may  be  told  almost  in 
a  sentence.  "Brown  Bess"  had  grown  obsolete; 
the  new  rifle,  with  its  gi-ooved  barrel,  needed  a 
lubricated  cartridge,  and  it  was  whispered  that  the 
cartridge  was  greased  with  a  compound  of  cow's  fat 


14     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

and  swine's  fat,  charged  with  villainous  theological 
properties.  It  would  destroy  at  once  the  caste  of 
the  Hindu,  and  the  ceremonial  purity  of  the  Mo- 
hammedan 1  Sir  John  Lawrence  declares  that  "  the 
proximate  cause  of  the  Mutiny  was  the  cartridge 
affair,  and  nothing  else."  Mr.  Lecky  says  that 
"  recent  researches  have  fully  proved  that  the  real, 
as  well  as  the  ostensible,  cause  of  the  Mutiny  was 
the  greased  cartridges."  He  adds,  this  is  "  a  shame- 
ful and  terrible  fact."  The  Sepoys,  he  apparently 
holds,  were  right  in  their  belief  that  in  the  grease 
that  smeared  the  cartridges  was  hidden  a  conspiracy 
against  their  religion  !  "  If  mutiny,"  Mr.  Lecky  adds, 
"was  ever  justifiable,  no  stronger  justification  could 
be  given  than  that  of  the  Sepoy  troops." 

But  is  this  accusation  valid  ?  That  the  military 
authorities  really  designed  to  inflict  a  religious  wrong 
on  the  Sepoys  in  the  matter  of  the  cartridges  no  one, 
of  course,  believes.  But  there  was,  undoubtedly, 
much  of  heavy-handed  clumsiness  in  the  official 
management  of  the  business.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
however,  no  greased  cartridges  Avere  actually  issued 
to  any  Sepoys.  Some  had  been  sent  out  from  Eng- 
land, for  the  purpose  of  testing  them  under  the 
Indian  climate;  large  numbers  had  been  actually 
manufactured  in  India;  but  the  Sepoys  took  the 
alarm  early,  and  none  of  the  guilty  cartridges  were 
actually  issued  to  the  men.  "  From  first  to  last," 
says  Kaye,  "no  such  cartridges  were  ever  issued  to 


MUNGUL   PANDY  I  5 

the  Sepoys,  save,  perhaps,  to  a  Ghoorka  regiment, 
at  their  own  request." 

When  once,  however,  the  suspicions  of  the  Sepoys 
were,  rightly  or  wrongly,  aroused,  it  was  impossible 
to  soothe  them.  The  men  were  told  that  they  might 
grease  the  cartridges  themselves ;  but  the  paper  in 
which  the  new  cartridges  were  wrapped  had  now, 
to  alarmed  Sepoy  eyes,  a  suspiciously  greasy  look, 
and  the  men  refused  to  handle  it. 

The  Sepoy  conscience  was,  in  truth,  of  very 
eccentric  sensitiveness.  Native  hands  made  up  the 
accused  cartridges  without  concern;  the  Sepoys 
themselves  used  them  freely — when  they  could  get 
them — against  the  British  after  the  Mutiny  broke 
out.  But  a  fanatical  belief  on  the  part  of  the 
Sepoys,  that  these  particular  cartridges  concealed 
in  their  greasy  folds  a  dark  design  against  their 
religion,  was  undoubtedly  the  immediate  occasion 
of  the  Great  Mutiny.  Yet  it  would  be  absurd  to 
regard  this  as  its  single  producing  cause.  In  order 
to  assert  this,  we  must  forget  all  the  other  evil 
forces  at  work  to  produce  the  cataclysm :  the 
annexation  of  Oude;  the  denial  of  the  sacred  right 
of  "adoption"  to  the  native  princes;  the  decay  of 
discipline  in  the  Sepoy  ranks ;  the  loss  of  reverence 
for  their  officers  by  the  men,  &c. 

The  Sepoys,  it  is  clear,  were,  on  many  grounds, 
discontented  with  the  conditions  of  their  service. 
The    keen,    brooding,    and    somewhat    melancholy 


1 6     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

genius  of  Henry  Lawrence  foresaw  the  coming 
trouble,  and  fastened  on  tliis  a,s  one  of  its  causes. 
In  an  article  written  in  March  1856,  he  says  that 
the  conditions  of  the  Indian  Army  denied  a  career 
to  any  native  soldier  of  genius,  and  this  must  put 
the  best  brains  of  the  Sepoys  in  quarrel  with  the 
British  rule.  Ninety  out  of  every  hundred  Sepoys, 
he  said  in  substance,  are  satisfied;  but  the  remain- 
ing ten  are  discontented,  some  of  them  to  a  danger- 
ous degree;  and  the  discontented  ten  were  the  best 
soldiers  of  the  hundred !  But,  as  it  happened,  the 
Mutiny  threw  up  no  native  soldier  of  genius,  except, 
perhaps,  Tantia  Topee,  who  was  not  a  Sepoy ! 

"  The  salt  water "  was  undoubtedly  amongst  the 
minor  causes  which  provoked  the  Mutiny.  The 
Sepoys  dreaded  the  sea ;  they  believed  they  could 
not  cross  it  without  a  fatal  loss  of  caste,  and  the 
new  form  of  military  oath,  which  made  the  Sepoy 
liable  for  over-sea  service,  was  believed,  by  the 
veterans,  to  extend  to  them,  even  though  they  had 
not  taken  it :  and  so  the  Sepoy  imagination  was 
disquieted. 

Lord  Dalhousie's  over- Anglicised  policy,  it  may  be 
added,  was  at  once  too  liberal,  and  too  impatient,  for 
the  Eastern  mind,  with  its  obstinacy  of  habit,  its 
hatred  of  change,  its  easily-roused  suspiciousness. 
As  Kaye  puts  it,  Lord  Dalhousie  poured  his  new  wine 
into  old  bottles,  with  too  rash  a  hand.  "  The  wine 
was  good  wine,  strong  wine,  wine  to  gladden   the 


MUNGUL    PANDY  I  7 

heart  of  man ; "  but  poured  into  such  ancient  and 
shrunken  bottles  too  rashly,  it  was  fatal.  It  was  be- 
cause we  were  "  too  English,"  adds  Kaye,  that  the 
great  crisis  arose ;  and  "  it  was  only  because  we  were 
English  that,  when  it  arose,  it  did  not  overwhelm  us." 
We  trod,  in  a  Avord,  with  heavy-footed  British  clumsi- 
ness on  the  historic  superstitions,  the  ancient  habi- 
tudes of  the  Sepoys,  and  so  provoked  them  to  revolt. 
But  the  dour  British  character,  which  is  at  the  root 
of  British  clumsiness,  in  the  end,  overbore  the  revolt. 

The  very  virtues  of  the  British  rule,  thus  proved  its 
peril.  Its  cool  justice,  its  steadfast  enforcement  of 
order,  its  tireless  warfare  against  crime,  made  it  hated 
of  all  the  lawless  and  predatory  classes.  Every  native 
Yvdio  lived  by  vice,  chafed  under  a  justice  which 
might  be  slow  and  passionless,  but  which  could  not 
be  bribed,  and  in  the  long-run  could  not  be  escaped. 

Some,  at  least,  of  the  dispossessed  princes,  diligently 
fanned  these  wild  dreams  and  wilder  suspicions 
which  haunted  the  Sepoy  mind,  till  it  kindled  into 
a  flame.  The  Sepoys  were  told  they  had  conquered 
India  for  the  English ;  why  should  they  not  now 
conquer  it  for  themselves  ?  The  cliu patties — mys- 
terious signals,  coming  whence  no  man  knew,  and 
meaning,  no  man  could  tell  exactly  what — passed 
from  village  to  village.  Usually  with  the  chupatti 
ran  a  message — ''Sub  lal  hojaega"  ("everything  Avill 
become  red"^ — a  Sibylline  announcement,  which 
might  be   accepted   as   a  warning   against   the   too 

B 


1 8     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

rapid  spread  of  the  English  raj,  or  a  grim  prediction 
of  universal  bloodshed.  Whence  the  chupatties 
came,  or  what  they  exactly  meant,  is  even  yet  a 
matter  of  speculation.  The  one  thing  certain  is,  they 
were  a  storm  signal,  not  very  intelligible,  perhaps, 
but  highly  effective. 

That  there  was  a  conspiracy  throughout  Bengal  for 
the  simultaneous  revolt  of  all  Sepoys  on  May  31, 
cannot  be  doubted,  and,  on  the  whole,  it  was  well  for 
the  English  raj  that  the  impatient  troopers  broke  out 
at  Meerut  before  the  date  agreed  upon. 

Sir  Richard  Temple,  whose  task  it  was  to  examine 
the  ex-king  of  Delhi's  papers  after  the  capture  of  the 
city,  found  amongst  them  an  immense  number  of 
letters  and  reports  from  leading  Mohammedans — 
priests  and  others.  These  letters  glowed  with  fana- 
tical fire.  Temple  declared  they  convinced  him  that 
"  Mohammedan  fanaticism  is  a  volcanic  agency, 
which  will  probably  burst  forth  in  eruptions  from 
time  to  time."  But  were  Christian  missions  any 
source  of  political  peril  to  British  rule  in  India  ?  On 
this  point  John  Lawrence's  opinion  ought  to  be  final. 
He  drafted  a  special  despatch  on  the  subject,  and 
Sir  Richard  Temple,  who  was  then  his  secretary,  de- 
clares he  "  conned  over  and  over  again  every  para- 
graph as  it  was  drafted."  It  represented  his  final 
judgment  on  the  subject.  He  held  that  "  Christian 
things  done  in  a  Christian  way  could  never  bo  politi- 
cally dangerous  in  India."     AVhile  scrupulously  ab- 


MUNGUL    PANDY  1 9 

staining  from  interference  in  the  religions  of  the 
people,  the  Government,  he  held,  "  should  be  more 
explicit  than  before  " — not  less  explicit — "  in  avowing 
its  Christian  character." 

The  explanation  offered  by  the  aged  king  of  Delhi, 
is  terse,  and  has  probably  as  much  of  truth  as  more 
lengthy  and  philosophical  theories.  Colonel  Vibart 
relates  how,  after  the  capture  of  Delhi,  he  went  to 
see  the  king,  and  found  him  sitting  cross-legged  on  a 
native  bedstead,  rocking  himself  to  and  fro.  He  was 
"  a  small  and  attenuated  old  man,  apparently  between 
eighty  and  ninety  years  of  age,  Avith  a  long  white 
beard,  and  almost  totally  blind."  Some  one  asked 
the  old  kino^  what  was  the  real  cause  of  the  outbreak 
at  Delhi.  "  I  don't  know,"  Avas  the  reply  ;  "  I  suppose 
my  people  gave  themselves  up  to  the  devil !  " 

The  distribution  of  the  British  forces  in  Bengal,  in 
1S57,  it  may  be  noted,  made  mutiny  easy  and  safe. 
We  have  learned  the  lesson  of  the  Mutiny  to-day, 
and  there  are  noAV  74,000  British  troops,  with  88 
batteries  of  British  artillery,  in  India,  while  the 
Sepoy  regiments  number  only  150,000,  with  13  bat- 
teries of  artillery.  But  in  1857,  the  British  garrison 
had  sunk  to  38,000,  while  the  Sepoys  numbered 
200,000.  Most  of  the  artillery  was  in  native  hands. 
In  Bengal  itself,  it  might  almost  be  said,  there  were 
no  British  troops,  the  bulk  of  them  being  garrisoned 
on  the  Afghan  or  Pegu  frontiers.  A  map  showing 
the  distribution  of  troops  on  May  i,  1857 — Sepoys  in 


20     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

black  dots,  and  British  in  red — is  a  thing  to  meditate 
over.  Such  a  map  is  pustuled  with  black  dots,  an 
inky  way  stretching  from  Cabul  to  Calcutta;  while 
the  red  points  gleam  faintly,  and  at  far-stretched 
intervals. 

All  the  principal  cities  were  without  European 
troops.  There  were  none  at  Delhi,  none  at  Benares, 
none  at  Allahabad.  In  the  Avhole  province  of  Oude 
there  was  only  one  British  battery  of  artillery.  The 
treasuries,  the  arsenals,  the  roads  of  the  North-West 
Provinces,  might  almost  be  said  to  be  wholly  in  the 
hands  of  Sepoys.  Betwixt  Meerut  and  Dinapore,  a 
stretch  of  1200  miles,  there  were  to  be  found  only 
tAvo  weak  British  regiments.  Never  was  a  prize  so 
rich  held  with  a  hand  so  slack  and  careless !  It  was 
the  evil  fate  of  England,  too,  that  when  the  storm 
broke,  some  of  the  most  important  posts  were  in 
the  hands  of  men  paralysed  by  mere  routine,  or  in 
whom  soldierly  fire  had  been  quenched  by  the  chills 
of  old  age. 

Of  the  deeper  sources  of  the  Mutiny,  John  Law- 
rence held,  that  the  great  numerical  preponderance 
of  the  Sepoys  in  the  military  forces  holding  India, 
was  the  chief.  "  Was  it  to  be  expected,"  he  asked, 
"that  the  native  soldiery,  who  had  charge  of  our 
fortresses,  arsenals,  magazines,  and  treasuries,  without 
adequate  European  control,  should  fail  to  gather  ex- 
travagant ideas  of  their  own  importance  ? "  It  was 
the  sense  of  power  that  induced  them  to  rebel.     The 


MUNGUL    PANDY  21 

balance  of  numbers,  and  of  visible  strength,  seemed 
to  be  overwhelmingly  with  them. 

Taken  geographically,  the  story  of  the  Mutiny  has 
three  centres,  and  may  be  covered  by  the  tragedy 
of  Cawnpore,  the  assault  on  Delhi,  and  the  heroic 
defence  and  relief  of  Lucknow.  Taken  in  order 
of  time,  it  has  three  stages.  The  first  stretches 
from  the  outbreak  at  Meerut  in  May  to  the  end 
of  September.  This  is  the  heroic  stage  of  the 
Mutiny.  No  reinforcements  had  arrived  from  Eng- 
land during  these  months.  It  was  the  period  of 
the  massacres,  and  of  the  tragedy  of  Cawnpore.  Yet 
during  those  months  Delhi  was  stormied,  Cawnpore 
avenged,  and  Havelock  made  his  amazing  march, 
punctuated  with  daily  battles,  for  the  relief  of  Luck- 
now.  The  second  stage  extends  from  October  1857, 
to  March  1858,  when  British  troops  were  poured 
upon  the  scene  of  action,  and  Colin  Campbell  re- 
captured Lucknow,  and  broke  the  strength  of  the 
revolt.  The  third  stage  extends  to  the  close  of  1858, 
and  marks  the  final  suppression  of  the  Mutiny. 

The  story,  with  its  swift  changes,  its  tragical  suf- 
ferings, its  alternation  of  disaster  and  triumph,  is  a 
warlike  epic,  and  might  rather  be  sung  in  dithyrambic 
strains,  than  told  in  cold  and  halting  prose.  If 
some  genius  could  do  for  the  Indian  Mutiny  what 
Napier  has  done  for  the  Peninsular  War,  it  would  be 
the  most  kindling  bit  of  literature  in  the  English 
language.     What  a  demonstration  the  whole  story 


2  2     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

is,  of  the  Imperial  genius  of  the  British  race !  "  A 
nation,"  to  quote  Hoclson — himself  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  actors  in  the  Gfreat  drama — "which  could 
conquer  a  country  like  the  Punjaub,  with  a  Hindoo- 
stanee  army,  then  turn  the  energies  of  the  con- 
quered Sikhs  to  subdue  the  very  army  by  which 
they  were  tamed ;  which  could  fight  out  a  position 
like  Peshawur  for  years,  in  the  very  teeth  of  the 
Afghan  tribes ;  and  then,  when  suddenly  deprived 
of  the  regiments  which  effected  this,  could  unhesi- 
tatingly employ  those  very  tribes  to  disarm  and  quell 
those  regiments  when  in  mutiny — a  nation  which 
could  do  this,  is  destined  indeed  to  rule  the  world  ! " 
These  sketches  do  not  pretend  to  be  a  reasoned 
and  adequate  "  history  "  of  the  Mutiny.  They  are, 
as  their  title  puts  it,  the  "  Tale  "  of  the  Mutiny — a 
simple  chain  of  picturesque  incidents,  and,  for  the 
sake  of  dramatic  completeness,  the  sketches  are 
grouped  round  the  three  heroic  names  of  the  Mutiny 
— Cawnpore,  Lucknow,  and  Delhi.  Only  the  chief 
episodes  in  the  great  drama  can  be  dealt  with  in  a 
space  so  brief,  and  they  will  be  told  in  simple  fashion 
as  tales,  which  illustrate  the  soldierly  daring  of  the 
men,  and  the  heroic  fortitude  of  the  women,  of  our 
race. 

On  the  evening  of  May  lo,  1857,  the  church  bells 
were  sounding  their  call  to  prayer  across  the  parade- 
ground,  and   over  the  roofs  of  the  cantonment  at 


MUNGUL    PANDY  23 

Meerut.  It  had  been  a  day  of  fierce  heat ;  the  ah* 
had  scorched  Hke  a  white  flame ;  all  day  long  fiery 
winds  had  blown,  hot  as  from  the  throat  of  a  seven 
times  heated  furnace.  The  tiny  English  colony  at 
Meerut — languid  women,  white-faced  children,  and 
officers  in  loosest  undress — panted  that  long  Sunday 
in  their  houses,  behind  the  close  blinds,  and  under 
the  lazily  swinging  punkahs.  But  the  cool  night 
had  come,  the  church  bells  were  ringing,  and  in  the 
dusk  of  evening,  officers  and  their  wives  were  stroll- 
ing or  driving  towards  the  church.  They  little 
dreamed  that  the  call  of  the  church  bells,  as  it  rose 
and  sank  over  the  roofs  of  the  native  barracks,  was, 
for  many  of  them,  the  signal  of  doom.  It  sum- 
moned the  native  troops  of  Meerut  to  revolt  ;  it 
marked  the  beginning  of  the  Great  Mutiny. 

Yet  the  very  last  place,  at  which  an  explosion 
might  have  been  expected,  was  Meerut.  It  was  the 
one  post  in  the  north-Avest  where  the  British  forces 
were  strongest.  The  Eifles  were  there,  1000  strong  ; 
the  6th  Dragoons  (Carabineers),  600  strong  ;  together 
with  a  fine  troop  of  horse  artillery,  and  details  of 
various  other  regiments.  Not  less,  m  a  word,  than 
2200  British  troops,  in  fair,  if  not  in  first-class,  fight- 
ing condition,  were  at  the  station,  while  the  native 
regiments  at  Meerut,  horse  and  foot,  did  not  reach 
3000.  It  did  not  need  a  Lawrence  or  a  Havelock  at 
Meerut  to  make  revolt  impossible,  or  to  stamp  it 
instantly  and  fiercely  out  if  it  were  attempted.     A 


24     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

stroke  of  very  ordinary  soldiership  might  have  ac- 
compUshed  this  ;  and  in  that  event,  the  Great  Mutiny 
itself  might  have  been  averted. 

The  general  in  command  at  Meerut,  however,  had 
neither  energy  nor  resolution.  He  had  drowsed  and 
nodded  through  some  fifty  years  of  routine  service, 
rising  by  mere  seniority.  He  was  now  old,  obese,  in- 
dolent, and  notoriously  incapable.  He  had  agreeable 
manners,  and  a  soothing  habit  of  ignoring  disagree- 
able facts.  Lord  Melbourne's  favourite  question, 
"Why  can't  you  leave  it  alone  ?  "  represented  General 
Hewitt's  intellect.  These  are  qualities  dear  to  the 
official  mind,  and  explain  General  Hewitt's  rise  to 
high  rank,  but  they  are  not  quite  the  gifts  needed  to 
suppress  a  mutiny.  In  General  Hewitt's  case,  the 
familiar  fable  of  an  army  of  lions  commanded  by  an 
ass,  was  translated  into  history  once  more. 

On  the  evening  of  May  5  cartridges  were  being 
served  out  for  the  next  morning's  parade,  and  eighty- 
five  men  of  the  3rd  Native  Cavalry  refused  to  receive 
or  handle  them,  though  they  were  the  old  familiar 
greased  cartridges,  not  the  new,  in  whose  curve,  as 
we  have  seen,  a  conspiracy  to  rob  the  Hindu  of  his 
caste,  and  the  Mohammedan  of  his  ceremonial  purity, 
was  vehemently  suspected  to  exist.  The  men  were 
tried  by  a  court-martial  of  fifteen  native  officers — 
six  of  them  being  Mohammedans  and  nine  Hindus — 
and  sentenced  to  various  terms  of  imprisonment. 

At  daybreak  on  the  9th,  the  whole  military  force 


MUNGUL    PANDY  25 

of  the  station  was  assembled  to  witness  the  military 
deo-radation  of  the  men.  The  British,  with  muskets 
and  cannon  loaded,  formed  three  sides  of  a  hollow 
square  ;  on  the  fourth  were  drawn  up  the  native 
regiments,  sullen,  agitated,  yet  overawed  by  the 
sabres  of  the  Dragoons,  the  grim  lines  of  the  steady 
Rifles,  and  the  threatening  muzzles  of  the  loaded 
cannon.  The  eighty-five  mutineers  stood  in  the 
centre  of  the  square. 

One  by  one  the  men  were  stripped  of  their  uni- 
form— adorned  in  many  instances  with  badges  and 
medals,  the  symbols  of  proved  courage  and  of  ancient 
fidelity.  One  by  one,  with  steady  clang  of  hammer, 
the  fetters  were  riveted  on  the  limbs  of  the  muti- 
neers, while  white  faces  and  dark  faces  alike  looked  on. 
For  a  space  of  time,  to  be  reckoned  almost  by  hours, 
the  monotonous  beat  of  the  hammer  rang  over  the 
lines,  steady  as  though  frozen  into  stone,  of  the  stern 
British,  and  over  the  sea  of  dark  Sepoy  faces  that 
formed  the  fourth  side  of  the  square.  In  the  eyes  of 
these  men,  at  least,  the  eighty-five  manacled  felons 
were  martyrs. 

The  parade  ended ;  the  dishonoured  eighty-five 
marched  off  with  clank  of  chained  feet  to  the  local 
Gfaol.  But  that  nio'ht,  in  the  huts  and  round  the 
camp  fires  of  all  the  Sepoy  regiments,  the  Avhispered 
talk  was  of  mutiny  and  revenge.  The  very  prosti- 
tutes in  the  native  bazaars  with  angry  scorn  urged 
them  to  revolt.     The  men  took  fire.     To  wait  for  the 


2  6  THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

31st,  the  day  fixed  for  simultaneous  mutiny  through- 
out Bengal,  was  too  sore  a  trial  for  their  patience. 
The  next  day  was  Sunday ;  the  Sahibs  would  all  be 
present  at  evening  s;^rvice  in  the  church ;  they  would 
be  unarmed.  So  the  church  bells  that  called  the 
British  officers  to  prayer,  should  call  their  Sepoys  to 
mutiny. 

In  the  dusk  of  that  historic  Sabbath  evening,  as 
the  church  bells  awoke,  and  sent  their  pulses  of 
clangorous  sound  over  the  cantonment,  the  men  of 
the  3rd  Native  Cavalry  broke  from  their  quarters, 
and  in  wild  tumult,  with  brandished  sabres  and  cries 
of  "  Deen !  Deen  ! "  galloped  to  the  gaol,  burst  open 
the  doors,  and  brought  back  in  triumph  the  eighty- 
five  "  martyrs."  The  Sepoy  infantry  regiments,  the 
1 1  til  and  20th,  ran  to  their  lines,  and  fell  into  rank 
under  their  native  officers.  A  British  sergeant,  run- 
ning with  breathless  speed,  brought  the  news  to 
Colonel  Finnis  of  the  i  ith.  "  For  God's  sake,  sir,"  he 
said,  "  fly  !     The  men  have  mutinied." 

Finnis,  a  cool  and  gallant  veteran,  was  the  last  of 
men  to  "  fly."  He  instantly  rode  down  to  the  lines. 
The  other  British  officers  gathered  round  him,  and 
for  a  brief  space,  with  orders,  gesticulations,  and 
appeals,  they  held  the  swaying  regiments  steady, 
hoping  every  moment  to  hear  the  sound  of  the 
British  dragoons  and  artillery  sweeping  to  the  scene 
of  action.  On  the  other  side  of  the  road  stood  the 
20th  Sepoys.     The  British  officers  there  also,  with 


MUNGUL    PANDY  2/ 

entreaties  and  remonstrances  and  gestures,  were 
trying  to  keep  the  men  in  line.  For  an  hour,  while 
the  evening  deepened,  that  strange  scene,  of  twenty 
or  thirty  Englishmen  keeping  2000  mutineers  steady, 
lasted  :  and  still  there  was  no  sound  of  rumbling  guns, 
or  beat  of  trampling  hoofs,  to  tell  of  British  artillery 
and  sabres  appearing  on  the  scene.  The  general  was 
asleep,  or  indifferent,  or  frightened,  or  helpless  through 
sheer  want  of  purpose  or  of  brains  ! 

Finnis,  who  saw  that  the  20th  Avere  on  the  point  of 
breaking  loose,  left  his  own  regiment,  and  rode  over 
to  help  its  officers.  The  dusk  by  this  time  had  deep- 
ened almost  into  darkness.  A  square,  soldierly  figure, 
only  dimly  seen,  Finnis  drew  bridle  in  front  of  the 
sullen  line  of  the  20th,  and  leaned  over  his  horse's 
neck  to  address  the  men.  At  that  moment  a  fiercer 
wave  of  excitement  ran  across  the  regiment.  The 
men  began  to  call  out  in  the  rear  ranks.  Suddenly 
the  muskets  of  the  front  line  fell  to  the  present,  a 
dancing  splutter  of  flame  swept  irregularly  along  the 
front,  and  Finnis  fell,  riddled  with  bullets.  The 
Great  Mutiny  had  begun  ! 

The  1 1  th  took  fire  at  the  sound  of  the  crackling 
muskets  of  the  20th.  They  refused,  indeed,  to  shoot 
their  own  officers,  but  hustled  them  roughly  off  the 
ground.  The  20th,  however,  by  this  time  were 
shooting  at  every  white  face  in  sight.  The  3rd  Cav- 
alry galloped  on  errands  of  arson  and  murder  to  the 
officers'  houses.     Flames  broke  out  on  every  side.     A 


2  8     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

score  of  bungalows  were  burning.  The  rabble  in  the 
bazaar  added  themselves  to  the  mutineers,  and  shouts 
from  the  mob,  the  long-drawn-out  splutter  of  veno- 
mous musketry,  the  shrieks  of  flying  victims,  broke 
the  quiet  of  the  Sabbath  evening. 

Such  of  the  Europeans  in  Meerut  that  night  as 
could  make  their  escape  to  the  British  lines  were 
safe  ;  but  for  the  rest,  every  person  of  European  blood 
who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  mutineers  or  of  the 
bazaar  rabble  was  slain,  irrespective  of  age  or  sex. 
Brave  men  were  hunted  like  rats  through  the  burn- 
ing streets,  or  died,  fighting  for  their  wives  and  little 
ones.  English  women  were  outraged  and  mutilated. 
Little  children  were  impaled  on  Sepoy  bayonets,  or 
hewn  to  bits  with  tulwars.  And  all  this  within  rifle- 
shot of  lines  where  might  have  been  gathered,  with  a 
single  bugle-blast,  some  2200  British  troops ! 

General  Hewitt  did,  indeed,  very  late  in  the  even- 
ing march  his  troops  on  to  the  general  parade-ground, 
and  deployed  them  into  line.  But  the  Sepoys  had 
vanished ;  some  on  errands  of  murder  and  rapine, 
the  great  body  clattering  off  in  disconnected  groups 
along  the  thirty  odd  miles  of  dusty  road,  barred  by 
two  rivers,  which  led  to  Delhi. 

One  trivial  miscalculation  robbed  the  outbreak  of 
what  might  well  have  been  its  most  disastrous 
feature.  The  Sepoys  calculated  on  finding  the  Rifles, 
armed  only  with  their  side-arms,  in  the  church.  But 
on  that  very  evening,  by  some  happy  chance,  the 


MUNGUL    PANDY  29 

church  parade  was  fixed  for  half-an-hour  later  than 
the  previous  Sunday.  So  the  Native  Cavahy  gal- 
loped down  to  the  lines  of  the  Rifles  half-an-hour  too 
soon,  and  found  their  intended  victims  actually  under 
arms !  They  wheeled  off  promptly  towards  the  gaol ; 
but  the  narrow  margin  of  that  half-hour  saved  the 
Rifles  from  surprise  and  slaughter. 

Hewitt  had,  as  we  have  seen,  in  addition  to  the 
Rifles,  a  strong  troop  of  horse  artillery  and  600  British 
sabres  in  hand.  He  could  have  pursued  the  muti- 
neers and  cut  them  down  ruthlessly  in  detail.  The 
gallant  officers  of  the  Carabineers  pleaded  for  an 
order  to  pursue,  but  in  vain.  Hewitt  did  not  even 
send  news  to  Delhi  of  the  revolt !  With  a  regiment 
of  British  rifles,  1000  strong,  standing  in  line,  he  did 
not  so  nmcli  as  shoot  down,  with  one  fierce  and 
wholesome  volley,  the  budmashes,  who  were  busy  in 
murder  and  outrage  among  the  bungalows.  When 
day  broke  Meerut  showed  streets  of  ruins  blackened 
with  fire,  and  splashed  red  with  the  blood  of  murdered 
Englishmen  and  Englishwomen.  According  to  the 
official  report,  "  groups  of  savages  were  actually  seen 
gloating  over  the  mangled  and  mutilated  remains  of 
their  victims."  Yet  Hewitt  thought  ho  satisfied  all 
the  obligations  of  a  British  soldier  by  peacefully  and 
methodically  collecting  the  bodies  of  slaughtered 
Eng^lishmen  and  Eno-lishwomen.  He  did  not  shoot 
or  hano"  a  sins^le  murderer  ! 

It  is  idle,  indeed,  to  ask  what  the  English  at  Meerut 


30     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

(lid  on  the  niglit  of  tlie  lotli;  it  is  simpler  to  say 
what  they  did  not  do.  Hewitt  did  nothing  that 
night ;  did  nothing  with  equal  diligence  the  next  day 
— while  the  Sepoys  that  had  fled  from  Meerut  were 
slaying  at  will  in  the  streets  of  Delhi.  He  allowed 
his  brigade,  in  a  helpless  fashion,  to  bivouac  on  the 
parade-ground ;  then,  in  default  of  any  ideas  of  his 
own,  took  somebody  else's  equally  helpless  advice, 
and  led  his  troops  back  to  their  cantonments  to  pro- 
tect them ! 

General  Hewitt  explained  afterwards  that  while 
he  was  responsible  for  the  district,  his  brigadier, 
Archdale  Wilson,  was  in  command  of  the  station. 
Wilson  replied  that  "  by  the  regulations.  Section 
XVII.,"  he  was  under  the  directions  of  General 
Hewitt,  and,  if  he  did  nothing,  it  was  because  that 
inert  warrior  ordered  nothino-  to  be  done.  Wilson, 
it  seems,  advised  Hewitt  not  to  attempt  any  pursuit, 
as  it  was  uncertain  which  way  the  mutineers  had 
gone.  That  any  attempt  might  be  made  to  dispel 
that  uncertainty  did  not  occur,  apparently,  to  either 
of  the  two  surprising  officers  in  command  at  Meerut ! 
A  battery  of  galloper  guns  outside  the  gates  of  Delhi 
might  have  saved  that  city.  It  might,  indeed,  have 
arrested  the  Great  Mutiny. 

But  all  India  waited,  listening  in  vain  for  the 
sound  of  Hewitt's  cannon.  The  divisional  com- 
mander was  reposing  in  his  arm-chair  at  Meerut ; 
his   brigadier   was    contemplating   "  the  regulations, 


MUNGUL    PANDY  3  I 

Section  XYII.,"  and  finding  there  reasons  for  doing 
nothing,  while  mutiny  went  imwhipped  at  Meerut, 
and  was  allowed  at  Delhi  to  find  a  home,  a  fortress, 
and  a  croAvned  head !  It  was  rumoured,  indeed, 
and  believed  for  a  moment,  over  half  India,  that 
the  British  in  Meerut  had  perished  to  a  man.  How 
else  could  it  be  explained  that,  at  a  crisis  so  terrible, 
they  had  vanished  so  completely  from  human  sight 
and  hearing?  Not  till  May  24 — a  fortnight  after 
the  outbreak — did  a  party  of  Dragoons  move  out 
from  Meerut  to  suppress  some  local  plunderers  in 
the  neiofhbourhood. 

One  flash  of  wrathful  valour,  it  is  true,  lights  up 
the  ignominy  of  this  story.  A  native  butcher  was 
boasting  in  the  bazaar  at  Meerut  how  he  had  killed 
the  wife  of  the  adjutant  of  the  nth.  One  of  the 
officers  of  that  regiment  heard  the  story.  He  sud- 
denly made  his  appearance  in  the  bazaar,  seized  the 
murderer,  and  brought  him  away  a  captive,  holding 
a  loaded  pistol  to  his  head.  A  drum-head  court- 
martial  was  improvised,  and  the  murderer  was 
promptly  hanged.  But  this  represents  well-nigh  the 
only  attempt  made  at  Meerut  during  the  first  hours 
after  the  outbreak  to  punish  the  mutiny  and  vin- 
dicate law. 

Colonel  Mackenzie,  indeed,  relates  one  other  in- 
cident of  a  kind  to  supply  a  grim  satisfaction  to  the 
humane  imagination  even  at  this  distance  of  time. 
Mackenzie  was  a  subaltern  in  one  of  the  revoltinir 

o 


32     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

regiments — the  3rd  Bengal  Light  Cavalry.  When 
the  mutiny  broke  out  he  rode  straight  to  the  lines, 
did  his  best  to  hold  the  men  steady,  and  finally  had 
to  ride  for  his  life  with  two  brother  officers,  Lieu- 
tenant Craigie  and  Lieutenant  Clarke.  Here  is 
Colonel  Mackenzie's  story.  The  group,  it  must  be 
remembered,  were  riding  at  a  gallop. 

The  telegraph  lines  were  cut,  and  a  slack  wire,  which  I 
did  not  see,  as  it  swung  across  the  road,  caught  me  full  on 
the  chest,  and  bowled  me  over  into  the  dust.  Over  my 
prostrate  body  poured  the  whole  column  of  our  followers, 
and  I  well  remember  my  feelings  as  I  looked  up  at  the 
shining  hoofs.  Fortunately  I  was  not  hurt,  and  regaining 
my  horse,  I  remounted,  and  soon  nearly  overtook  Craigie 
and  Clarke,  when  I  was  horror-struck  to  see  a  palanquin- 
gharry — a  sort  of  box-shaped  venetian-sided  carriage — 
being  dragged  slowly  onwards  by  its  driverless  horse, 
while  beside  it  rode  a  trooper  of  the  3rd  Cavalry,  plung- 
ing his  sword  repeatedly  through  the  open  window  into 
the  body  of  its  already  dead  occupant — an  unfortunate 
European  woman.  But  Nemesis  was  upon  the  murderer. 
In  a  moment  Craigie  had  dealt  him  a  swinging  cut  across 
the  back  of  the  neck,  and  Clarke  had  run  him  through  the 
body.  The  wretch  fell  dead,  the  first  Sepoy  victim  at 
Meerut  to  the  sword  of  the  avenger  of  blood. 

For  the  next  few  weeks  Hewitt  was,  probably,  the 
best  execrated  man  in  all  India.  We  have  only  to 
imagine  Avhat  would  have  happened  if  a  Lawrence, 
instead  of  a  Hewitt,  had  commanded  at  Meerut  that 
night,  to  realise  for   how  much  one  fool  counts  in 


MUNGUL   PANDY  33 

human  history.  That  Hewitt  did  not  stamp  out 
mutiny  or  avenge  murder  in  Meerut  was  bad ;  his 
most  fatal  blunder  was,  that  he  neither  pursued  the 
mutineers  in  their  flight  to  Delhi,  nor  marched  hard 
on  their  tracks  to  the  help  of  the  little  British  colony 
there. 

Lord  Roberts,  indeed,  holds  that  pursuit  would 
have  been  "  futile,"  and  that  no  action  by  the  British 
commanders  at  Meerut  could  have  saved  Delhi ; 
and  this  is  the  judgment,  recorded  in  cold  blood 
nearly  forty  years  afterwards,  by  one  of  the  greatest 
of  British  soldiers.  Had  the  Lord  Roberts  of  Can- 
dahar,  however,  been  in  command  himself  at  Meerut, 
it  may  be  shrewdly  suspected  the  mutineers  would 
not  have  gone  unpursued,  nor  Delhi  unwarned ! 
Amateur  judgments  are  not,  of  course,  to  be  trusted 
in  military  affairs ;  but  to  the  impatient  civilian 
judgment,  it  seems  as  if  the  massacres  in  Delhi,  the 
long  and  bitter  siege,  the  whole  tragical  tale  of  the 
Mutiny,  might  have  been  avoided  if  Hewitt  had 
possessed  one  thrill  of  the  fierce  energy  of  Nicholson, 
or  one  breath  of  the  proud  courage  of  Havelock. 


CHAPTER  II 

DELHI 

DELHI  lies  thirty-eight  miles  to  the  south-west 
of  Meerut,  a  city  seven  miles  in  circumference, 
ancient,  stately,  beautiful.  The  sacred  Jumna  runs 
by  it.  Its  grey,  wide-curving  girdle  of  crenellated 
walls,  is  pierced  with  seven  gates.  It  is  a  city  of 
mosques  and  palaces  and  gardens,  and  crowded 
native  bazaars.  Delhi  in  1857  was  of  great  political 
importance,  if  only  because  the  last  representative 
of  the  Grand  Mogul,  still  bearing  the  title  of  the 
King  of  Delhi,  resided  there  in  semi-royal  state. 
The  Imperial  Palace,  with  its  crowd  of  nearly  12,000 
inmates,  formed  a  sort  of  tiny  royal  city  within  Delhi 
itself,  and  here,  if  anywhere,  mutiny  might  find  a 
centre  and  a  head. 

Moreover,  the  huge  magazines,  stored  with  muni- 
tions of  war,  made  the  city  of  the  utmost  military 
value  to  the  British.  Yet,  by  special  treaty,  no 
British  troops  were  lodged  in  Delhi  itself;  there 
were  none  encamped  even  on  the  historic  Ridge 
outside  it. 

The    3rd    Cavalry,    heading    the    long    flight    of 

34 


DELHI  3  S 

mutineers,  reached  Delhi  in  the  early  morning  of 
the  1 1  th  of  May.  They  spurred  across  the  bridge, 
slew  the  few  casual  Englishmen  they  met  as  they 
swept  through  the  streets,  galloped  to  the  king's 
palace,  and  with  loud  shouts  announced  that  they 
had  "  slain  all  the  Endish  at  Meerut.  and  had  come 
to  fight  for  the  faith." 

The  king,  old  and  nervous,  hesitated.  He  had 
no  reason  for  revolt.  Ambition  was  dead  in  him. 
His  estates  had  thriven  under  British  administra- 
tion. His  revenues  had  risen  from  a  little  over 
;^40,ooo  to  ;^ 1 40,000.  He  enjoyed  all  that  he  asked 
of  the  universe,  a  lazy,  sensual,  opium-soaked  life. 
Why  should  he  exchange  a  musky  and  golden  sloth, 
to  the  Indian  imao^ination  so  desirable,  for  the  dread- 
ful  perils  of  revolt  and  war  ?  But  the  palace  at 
Delhi  was  a  moral  plague-spot,  a  nest  of  poisonous 
insects,  a  vast  household  in  which  fermented  every 
bestial  passion  to  which  human  nature  can  sink. 
And  discontent  gave  edge  and  fire  to  every  other 
evil  force.  A  spark  falling  into  such  a  magazine 
might  well  produce  an  explosion.  And  the  shouts 
of  the  revolted  troopers  from  Meerut  at  its  gates 
supplied  the  necessary  spark. 

While  the  old  king  doubted,  and  hesitated,  and 
scolded,  the  palace  guards  opened  the  gates  to  the 
men  of  the  3rd  Cavalry,  who  instantly  swept  in  and 
slaughtered  the  English  ofiicials  and  English  ladies 
found  in  it.     Elsewhere  mutiny  found  many  victims. 


2,6  THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

The  Delhi  Bank  was  attacked  and  plundered,  and  the 
clerks  and  the  manager  with  his  family  were  slain. 
The  office  of  the  Delhi  Gazette  shared  the  same  fate, 
the  unfortunate  compositors  being  killed  in  the  very 
act  of  setting  up  the  "  copy "  which  told  of  the 
tragedy  at  Meerut.  All  Europeans  found  that  day 
in  the  streets  of  Delhi,  down  to  the  very  babies,  were 
killed  without  pity. 

There  were,  as  we  have  said,  no  white  troops  in 
Delhi.  The  city  was  held  by  a  Sepoy  garrison,  the 
38th,  54th,  and  74th  Sepoy  regiments,  with  a  battery 
of  Sepoy  artillery.  The  British  officers  of  these  regi- 
ments, when  news  of  the  Meerut  outbreak  reached 
them,  made  no  doubt  but  that  Hewitt's  artillery 
and  cavalry  from  Meerut  would  follow  fierce  and 
fast  on  the  heels  of  the  mutineers.  The  Sepoys 
were  exhorted  briefly  to  be  true  to  their  salt,  and 
the  men  stepped  cheerfully  off  to  close  and  hold  the 
city  gates  against  the  mutineers. 

The  chief  scene  of  interest  for  the  next  few  hours 
was  the  main-guard  of  the  Cashmere  Gate.  This  was 
a  small  fortified  enclosure  in  the  rear  of  the  great 
gate  itself,  always  held  by  a  guard  of  fifty  Sepoys 
under  a  European  officer.  A  low  verandah  ran 
around  the  inner  wall  of  the  main-guard,  inside 
which,  were  the  quarters  of  the  Sepoys;  a  ramp  or 
sloping  stone  causeway  led  to  the  summit  of  the 
gate  itself,  on  which  stood  a  small  two-roomed  house, 
serving  as  quarters  for  the  British  officer  on  duty. 


DELHI  37 

From  the  main-guard,  two  gates  opened  into  the  city 
itself. 

The  guard  on  that  day  consisted  of  a  detachment 
of  the  38th  Native  Infantry.  They  had  broken  into 
mutiny,  and  assisted  with  cheers  and  laughter  at  the 
spectacle  of  Colonel  Ripley,  of  the  54th  N.I.,  with 
other  officers  of  that  regiment,  being  hunted  and 
sabred  by  some  of  the  mutinous  light  cavalry  who 
had  arrived  from  Meerut.  Two  companies  of  the 
54th  were  sent  hurriedly  to  the  gate,  and  met  the 
body  of  their  colonel  being  carried  out  literally  hacked 
to  pieces. 

Colonel  Yibart,  one  of  the  officers  of  the  54th,  has 
given  in  his  work,  "The  Sepoy  Mutiny,"  a  vivid 
account  of  the  scene  in  the  main-guard,  as  he  en- 
tered it.  In  one  corner  lay  the  dead  bodies  of  five 
British  officers  who  had  just  been  shot.  The  main- 
guard  itself  was  crowded  Avith  Sepoys  in  a  mood  of 
sullen  disloyalty.  Through  the  gate  which  opened 
on  the  city  could  be  seen  the  revolted  cavalry 
troopers,  in  their  French-grey  uniforms,  their  swords 
wet  Avith  the  blood  of  the  British  officers  they  had 
just  slain.  A  cluster  of  terrified  English  ladies — 
some  of  them  widows  already,  though  they  knew 
it  not — had  sought  refuge  here,  and  their  white 
faces  added  a  note  of  terror  to  the  picture. 

Major  Abbott,  with  150  men  of  the  74tli  N.L,  pre- 
sently marched  into  the  main-guard ;  but  the  hold 
of  the  officers  on  the  men  was  of  the  slio'htest,  and 


38     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

when  mutiny,  in  the  mass  of  Sepoys  crowded  into 
the  main-guard,  would  break  out  into  murder,  no- 
body could  guess. 

Major  Abbott  collected  the  dead  bodies  of  the 
fallen  officers,  put  them  in  an  open  bullock-cart, 
covered  them  with  the  skirts  of  some  ladies'  dresses, 
and  despatched  the  cart,  with  its  tragic  freight,  to 
the  cantonments  on  the  Ridge.  The  cart  found  its 
way  to  the  Flagstaff  Tower  on  the  Ridge,  and  was 
abandoned  there ;  and  when,  a  month  afterwards, 
the  force  under  Sir  Henry  Barnard  marched  on  to 
the  crest  the  cart  still  stood  there,  with  the  dead 
bodies  of  the  unfortunate  officers  —  by  this  time 
turned  to  skeletons — in  it. 

Matters  quickly  came  to  a  crisis  at  the  Cashmere 
Gate.  About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  there 
came  in  quick  succession  the  sound  of  guns  from 
the  magazine.  This  was  followed  by  a  deep,  sullen, 
and  prolonged  blast  that  shook  the  very  walls  of  the 
main-guard  itself,  while  up  into  the  blue  sky  slowly 
climbed  a  mighty  cloud  of  smoke.  Willoughby  had 
blown  up  the  great  powder-magazine  ;  and  the  sound 
shook  both  the  nerves  and  the  loyalty  of  the  Sepoys 
who  crowded  the  main-guard.  There  was  kindled 
amongst  them  the  maddest  agitation,  not  lessened 
by  the  sudden  appearance  of  Willoughby  and  Forrest, 
scorched  and  blackened  by  the  explosion  from  which 
they  had  in  some  marvellous  fashion  escaped. 

Brigadier  Graves,  from  the  Ridge,  now  summoned 


DELHI  39 

Abbott  and  the  men  of  the  74th  back  to  that  post. 
After  some  delay  they  commenced  then'  march,  two 
guns  being  sent  in  advance.  But  the  first  sound  of 
their  marching  feet  acted  as  a  match  to  the  human 
powder-magazine.  The  leading  files  of  Abbott's  men 
had  passed  through  the  Cashmere  Gate  when  the 
Sepoys  of  the  38th  suddenly  rushed  at  it  and  closed 
it,  and  commenced  to  fire  on  their  officers.  In  a 
moment  the  main-guard  was  a  scene  of  terror  and 
massacre.  It  was  filled  with  eddying  smoke,  with 
shouts,  with  the  sound  of  crackling  muskets,  of  swear- 
ing^ men  and  shriekins^  women.  Here  is  Colonel 
Vibart's  description  of  the  scene  : — 


The  horrible  truth  now  flashed  on  me — we  were  being 
massacred  right  and  left,  without  any  means  of  escape ! 
Scarcely  knowing  what  I  w^as  doing,  I  made  for  the  ramp 
which  leads  from  the  courtyard  to  the  bastion  above. 
Every  one  appeared  to  be  doing  the  same.  Twice  I  was 
knocked  over  as  we  all  frantically  rushed  up  the  slope,  the 
bullets  whistling  past  us  like  hail,  and  flattening  themselves 
against  the  parapet  with  a  frightful  hiss.  To  this  day  it 
is  a  perfect  marvel  to  me  how  any  one  of  us  escaped  being 
hit.  Poor  Smith  and  Reveley,  both  of  the  74th,  were 
killed  close  beside  me.  The  latter  was  carrying  a  loaded 
gun,  and,  raising  himself  with  a  dying  effort,  he  discharged 
both  barrels  into  a  knot  of  Sepoys,  and  the  next  moment 
expired. 

The  strusfSflinsf  crowd  of  British  officers  and  ladies 
reached  the  bastion  and  crowded  into  its  embrasures, 


40     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

while  the  Sepoys  from  the  niam-guarcl  below  took 
deliberate  pot-shots  at  them.  Presently  a  light  gun 
was  brought  to  bear  on  the  unhappy  fugitives  crouch- 
ing on  the  summit  of  the  bastion.  The  ditch  was 
twenty-five  feet  below,  but  there  was  no  choice.  One 
by  one  the  officers  jumped  down.  Some  buckled 
their  sword-belts  together  and  lowered  the  ladies. 
One  very  stout  old  lady,  Colonel  Vibart  records, 
"would  neither  jump  down  nor  be  lowered  down; 
would  do  nothino^  but  scream.  Just  then  another 
shot  from  the  gun  crashed  into  the  parapet;  some- 
body gave  the  poor  woman  a  push,  and  she  tumbled 
headlong  into  the  ditch  beneath."  Officers  and 
ladies  scrambled  up  the  almost  perpendicular  bank 
which  forms  the  farther  wall  of  the  ditch,  and 
escaped  into  the  jungle  beyond,  and  began  their 
peril-haunted  flight  to  Meerut. 

Abbott,  of  the  74th,  had  a  less  sensational  escape. 
His  men  told  him  they  had  protected  him  as  long 
as  they  could ;  he  must  now  fly  for  his  life.  Abbott 
resisted  long,  but  at  last  said,  "  Very  well.  I'm  ofi' 
to  Meerut ;  but,"  he  added,  with  a  soldier's  instinct, 
"  give  me  the  colours."  And,  carrying  the  colours 
of  his  regiment,  he  set  off  with  one  other  officer  on 
his  melancholy  walk  to  Meerut. 

The  most  heroic  incident  in  Delhi  that  day  was 
the  defence  and  explosion  of  the  great  magazine. 
This  was  a  huge  building,  standing  some  600  yards 
from  the  Cashmere  Gate,  packed  with  munitions  of 


LIEUTENANT   GEORGE   WILLOUGHBY, 
Bengal  Artillery 


Reproduced,  by  kind  permission  of  his  niece,  Miss  Wallace, yr^w  a  photoiraph  of 
an  unfinished  %vaiey-colouy  drawing,  taken  about  1857 


DELHI  4 I 

^var — cannon,  ammunition,  and  rifles — sufficient  to 
have  armed  half  a  nation,  and  only  a  handful  of 
Englishmen  to  defend  it.  It  was  in  charge  of  Lieu- 
tenant Willoughby,  Avho  had  under  him  two  other 
officers  (Forrest  and  Raynor),  four  conductors  (Buck- 
ley, Shaw,  Scully,  and  Crowe),  and  two  sergeants 
(Edwards  and  Stewart)  ;  a  little  garrison  of  nine 
brave  men,  whose  names  deserve  to  be  immortalised. 

Willoughby  was  a  soldier  of  the  quiet  and  coolly 
courageous  order;  his  men  were  British  soldiers  of 
the  ordinary  stuff  of  which  the  rank  and  file  of  the 
British  Army  is  made.  Yet  no  ancient  story  or 
classic  fable  tells  of  any  deed  of  daring  and  self- 
sacrifice  nobler  than  that  which  this  cluster  of  com- 
monplace Englishmen  was  about  to  perform.  The 
Three  Hundred  who  kept  the  pass  at  Thermopylae 
against  the  Persian  swarms,  the  Three,  who,  accord- 
ing to  the  familiar  legend,  held  the  bridge  across  the 
Tiber  ao-ainst  Lars  Porsena,  were  not  of  nobler  fibre 
than  the  Nine  who  blew  up  the  great  magazine  at 
Delhi  rather  than  surrender  it  to  the  mutineers. 

Willoughby  closed  and  barricaded  the  gates,  and 
put  opposite  each  two  six-pounders,  doubly  loaded 
with  grape ;  he  placed  a  24-pound  howitzer  so  as 
to  command  both  gates,  and  covered  other  vulner- 
able points  with  the  fire  of  other  guns.  In  all  he 
had  ten  pieces  of  artillery  in  position — with  only  nine 
men  to  work  them.  He  had,  indeed,  a  score  of 
native   officials,  and   he  thrust  arms  into  their  re- 


42  THE   TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

luctant  hands,  but  knew  that  at  the  first  hostile  shot 
they  would  run. 

But  the  Nine  could  not  hope  to  hold  the  maga- 
zine finally  against  a  city  in  revolt.  A  fuse  was 
accordingly  run  into  the  magazine  itself,  some  barrels 
of  powder  were  broken  open,  and  their  contents 
heaped  on  the  end  of  the  fuse.  The  fuse  was  car- 
ried into  the  open,  and  one  of  the  party  (Scully) 
stationed  beside  it,  lighted  port-fire  in  hand.  Will- 
oughby's  plan  was  to  hold  the  magazine  as  long  as 
he  could  work  the  guns.  But  when,  as  was  inevit- 
able, the  wave  of  mutinous  Sepoys  swept  over  the 
walls,  Willoughby  was  to  give  the  signal  by  a  wave 
of  his  hat,  Scully  would  instantly  light  the  fuse,  and 
the  magazine — with  its  stores  of  warlike  material,  its 
handful  of  brave  defenders,  and  its  swarm  of  eager 
assailants — would  vanish  in  one  huge  thunderclap ! 

Presently  there  came  a  formal  summons  in  the 
name  of  the  King  of  Delhi  to  surrender  the  maga- 
zine. The  summons  met  with  a  grim  and  curt 
refusal.  Now  the  Sepoys  came  in  solid  columns  down 
the  narrow  streets,  swung  round  the  magazine,  and 
girdled  it  with  shouts  and  a  tempest  of  bullets.  The 
native  defenders,  at  the  first  shot,  clambered  down 
the  walls  and  vanished,  and  the  forlorn  but  gallant 
Nine  were  left  alone.  Hammers  were  beating  fiercely 
on  the  gates.  A  score  of  improvised  scaling-ladders 
were  placed  against  the  walls,  and  in  a  moment  the 
Sepoys  were  swarming  up.     A  gate  was  burst  open, 


DELHI  43 

but,  as  the  assailants  tried  to  rush  in,  a  blast  of  grape 
swept  through  them.  Willoughby's  nine  guns,  each 
worked  by  a  single  gunner,  poured  their  thunder  of 
sound,  and  storm  of  shot,  swiftly  and  steadily,  on 
the  swaying  mass  of  Sepoys  that  blocked  the  gate. 

Lieutenant  Forrest,  who  survived  the  perils  of  that 
fierce  hour,  has  told,  in  cool  and  soldierly  language, 
its  story : — 

Buckley,  assisted  only  by  myself,  loaded  and  fired  in 
rapid  succession  the  several  guns  above  detailed,  firing 
at  least  four  rounds  from  each  gun,  and  with  the  same 
steadiness  as  if  standing  on  parade,  although  the  enemy 
were  then  some  hundreds  in  number,  and  kept  up  a  hot 
fire  of  musketry  on  us  within  forty  or  fifty  yards.  After 
firing  the  last  round,  Buckley  received  a  musket  ball  in 
his  arm  above  the  elbow ;  I,  at  the  same  time,  was  struck 
in  the  left  hand  by  two  musket  balls. 

When,  before  or  since,  has  there  been  a  contest 
so  heroic  or  so  hopeless  ?  But  what  can  Nine  do 
against  twice  as  many  hundreds  ?  From  the  summit 
of  the  walls  a  deadly  fire  is  concentrated  on  the  hand- 
ful of  gallant  British.  One  after  another  drops.  In 
another  moment  will  come  the  rush  of  the  bayonets. 
Willoughby  looks  round  and  sees  Scully  stooping 
with  lighted  port-fire  over  the  fuse,  and  ^vatching 
for  the  agreed  signal.  He  lifts  his  hand.  Coolly 
and  swiftly  Scully  touches  the  fuse  with  his  port- 
fire.    The  red  spark  runs  along  its  centre ;  there  is 


44     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

an  earth-shaking  crash,  as  of  thunder,  a  sky-piercing 
leap  of  flame.  The  walls  of  the  magazine  are  torn 
asunder ;  bodies  of  men  and  fragments  of  splintered 
arms  fly  aloft.  The  whole  city  seems  to  shake  with 
the  concussion,  and  a  great  pillar  of  smoke,  mush- 
room-topped and  huge,  rises  slowly  in  the  sky.  It 
is  the  siofnal  to  heaven  and  earth  of  how  the  Nine 
British,  who  kept  the  great  magazine,  had  fulfilled 
their  trust. 

Of  those  gallant  Nine,  Scully,  who  fired  the  train, 
and  four  others  vanished,  along  with  hundreds  of 
the  mutineers,  in  one  red  rain.  But,  somehow, 
they  themselves  scarcely  knew  how,  Willoughby, 
with  his  two  officers,  and  Conductor  Buckley  found 
themselves,  smoke-blackened  and  dazed,  outside  the 
magazine,  and  they  escaped  death,  for  the  moment 
at  least. 

The  fugitives  who  escaped  from  the  Cashmere 
Gate  had  some  very  tragical  experiences.  Sinking 
from  fatigue  and  hunger,  scorched  by  the  flame- 
like heat  of  the  sun,  wading  rivers,  toiling  through 
j  unglcs,  hunted  by  villagers,  they  struggled  on,  seek- 
ing some  place  of  refuge.  Some  reached  Meerut, 
others  Umballa,  but  many  died.  Of  that  much- 
enduring  company  of  fugitives,  it  is  recorded  that 
the  women  often  showed  the  highest  degree  of  forti- 
tude and  patience.  Yet  more  than  one  mother  had 
to  lay  her  child,  killed  by  mere  exposure  or  heat, 
in   a   nameless  jungle  grave;   more  than  one   wife 


DELHI  4  5 

had  to  see  her  husband  die,  of  bullet  or  swordstroke, 
at  her  feet. 

But  the  fate  of  these  wanderers  was  happier 
than  that  of  the  Europeans  left  in  the  city.  Some 
twenty-seven — eleven  of  them  being  children  and 
eight  women  —  took  refuge  in  a  house  near  the 
great  mosque.  They  held  the  house  for  three  days, 
but,  having  no  water,  suffered  all  the  agonies  of 
thirst.  The  Sepoys  set  vessels  of  Avater  in  front  of 
the  house,  and  bade  the  poor  besieged  give  up  their 
arms  and  they  should  drink.  They  yielded,  gave  up 
the  two  miserable  guns  Avith  which  they  had  de- 
fended themselves,  and  were  led  out.  No  water  was 
given  them.  Death  alone  was  to  cool  those  fever- 
blackened  lips.  They  were  set  in  a  row,  the  eleven 
children  and  sixteen  men  and  women,  and  shot. 
Let  tender-hearted  mothers  picture  that  scene,  trans- 
acted under  the  white  glare  of  the  Indian  sun  ! 

Some  fifty  Europeans  and  Eurasians  barricaded 
themselves  in  a  strong  house  in  the  English  quarter 
of  the  city.  The  house  was  stormed,  the  unhappy 
captives  were  dragged  to  the  King  of  Delhi's  palace, 
and  thrust  into  an  underground  cellar,  with  no 
windows  and  only  one  door.  For  five  days  they 
sweltered  and  sickened  in  that  black  hole.  Then 
they  were  brought  out,  with  one  huge  rope  gird- 
ling them — men,  women,  and  children,  a  pale-faced, 
haggard,  half-naked  crowd,  crouching  under  one  of 
the  great  trees  in  the  palace  garden.     About  them 


46     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

gathered  a  brutal  raob  of  Sepoys  and  Budmashes, 
amongst  whom  was  Abool  Bukr,  the  heir-apparent 
to  the  King  of  Delhi.  The  whole  of  the  victims 
were  murdered,  with  every  accompaniment  of  cruelty, 
and  it  is  said  that  the  heir-apparent  himself  devised 
horrible  refinements  of  suffering. 

Less  than  six  months  afterwards  Hodson,  of 
Hodson's  Horse,  shot  that  princely  murderer,  with 
a  cluster  of  his  kinsfolk,  under  the  walls  of  Delhi, 
and  in  the  presence  of  some  6000  shuddering  natives, 
first  explaining,  that  they  were  the  murderers  of 
women  and  children.  Their  bodies  were  brought 
in  a  cart  through  the  most  public  street  of  the  city, 
laid  side  by  side,  under  the  tree  and  on  the  very 
spot  where  they  had  tortured  and  :iiurdered  our 
women. 

Mutiny  grows  swiftly.  On  Sunday  night  was  fired, 
from  the  ranks  of  the  20th  Sepoys,  the  volley  that 
slew  Colonel  Finnis,  and  was,  so  to  speak,  the  opening 
note  in  the  long  miserere  of  the  Mutiny.  At  four 
o'clock  on  Monday  afternoon  the  thunder  of  the 
great  magazine,  as  it  exploded,  shook  the  walls  of 
Delhi.  Before  the  grey  light  of  Tuesday  morning 
broke  over  the  royal  city  every  member  of  the  British 
race  in  it  was  either  slain  or  a  captive. 

When  a  powder-magazine  is  fired,  the  interval  of 
time  between  the  flash  of  the  first  ignited  grain  and 
the  full-throated  blast  of  the  explosion  is  scarcely 
measurable.    And  if  the  cluster  of  keen  and  plotting 


DELHI  47 

brains  behind  the  Great  Mutiny  had  carried  out  their 
plans  as  they  intended,  the  Mutiny  would  have  had 
exactly  this  bewildering  suddenness  of  arrival.  There 
is  Avhat  seems  ample  evidence  to  prove  that  Sunday, 
May  3 1 ,  was  fixed  for  the  simultaneous  rising  of  all 
the  Sepoy  regiments  in  Bengal.  A  small  committee 
of  conspirators  was  at  work  in  each  regiment,  elabo- 
rating the  details  of  the  Mutiny.  Parties  were  to  be 
told  off  in  each  cantonment,  to  murder  the  British 
officers  and  their  families  while  in  church,  to  seize 
the  treasury,  release  the  prisoners,  and  capture  the 
guns.  The  Sepoy  regiments  in  Delhi  were  to  take 
possession  of  that  great  city,  with  its  arsenal. 

The  outbreak  at  Meerut  not  merely  altered  the 
date,  it  changed  the  character  of  the  revolt.  The 
powder-magazine  exploded,  so  to  speak,  in  separate 
patches,  and  at  intervals  spread  over  weeks.  It  was 
this  circumstance — added  to  the  fact  that  the  Sepoys 
had  rejected  the  greased  cartridges,  and  with  them 
the  Enfield  rifle,  against  which  Brown  Bess  was  at  a 
fatal  disadvantage — that,  speaking  humanly,  robbed 
the  Mutiny  of  half  its  terror,  and  helped  to  save  the 
British  Empire  in  India. 

But,  even  allowing  for  all  this,  a  powder-magazine 
— although  it  explodes  only  by  instalments — is  a 
highly  uncomfortable  residence  while  the  explosion 
is  going  on ;  and  seldom  before  or  since,  in  the  long 
stretch  of  human  history,  have  human  courage  and 
fortitude  been  put  to  such  a  test,  as  in  the  case  of  the 


48     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

handful  of  British  soldiers  and  civilians  who  held  the 
North- West  Provinces  for  England  during  the  last 
days  of  May  1857. 

Sir  George  Campbell,  who  was  in  Simla  at  the 
time,  has  told  the  story  of  how  he  stood  one  day, 
early  in  June,  beside  the  telegraph  operator  in  Um- 
balla,  and  listened  while  the  wire,  to  use  his  own 
words,  "seemed  to  repeat  the  experience  of  Job." 
"  First  we  heard  that  the  whole  Jullunder  brigade 
had  mutinied,  and  were  in  full  march  in  our  direction, 
on  the  way  to  Delhi.  While  that  message  was  still 
being  spoken,  came  another  message,  to  tell  us  that 
the  troops  in  Rajpootana  had  mutinied,  and  that 
Rohilcund  was  lost;  following  which,  I  heard  that 
the  Moradabad  regiment  had  gone,  and  that  my 
brother  and  his  young  wife  had  been  obliged  to  fly." 

Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  revolted  districts 
equal  in  area  France,  Austria,  and  Prussia  put  to- 
gether; in  population  they  exceeded  them.  And 
over  this  great  area,  and  through  this  huge  popula- 
tion, the  process  described  by  the  telegrams,  to  whose 
rueful  syllables  Sir  George  Campbell  listened,  was 
being  swiftly  and  incessantly  repeated.  The  British 
troops  did  not  number  22,000  men,  and  they  were 
scattered  over  a  hundred  military  stations,  and  sub- 
merged in  a  population  of  94,000,000.  Let  the  reader 
imagine  fifteen  or  sixteen  British  regiments  sprinkled 
in  microscopic  fragments  over  an  area  so  vast,  and 
amongst  populations  so  huge  ] 


DELHI  49 

The  Sepoy  army  in  Bengal  numbered  150,000  men, 
and  within  six  weeks  of  the  shot  which  killed  Colonel 
Finnis  at  Meerut,  of  its  120  regiments  of  horse  and 
foot,  only  twenty-five  remained  under  the  British 
flag,  and  not  five  of  these  could  be  depended  upon ! 
A  whole  army,  in  a  word,  magnificently  drilled,  per- 
fectly officered,  strong  in  cavalry,  and  yet  more  for- 
midable in  guns,  was  in  open  and  murderous  revolt. 
Some  idea  of  the  scale  and  completeness  of  the 
Mutiny  can  be  gathered  from  the  single  fact  that 
every  regiment  of  regular  cavalry,  ten  regiments  of 
irregular  cavalry  out  of  eighteen,  and  sixty-three  out 
of  seventy-four  regiments  of  infantry,  then  on  the 
strength  of  the  Bengal  army,  disappeared  finally  and 
completely  from  its  roster  ! 

In  each  cantonment  during  the  days  preceding  the 
revolt,  the  British  officers  on  the  spot  were — to  return 
to  our  figure — like  men  shut  up  in  a  powder- 
magfazine  with  the  train  fired.  There  mig^ht  be  a 
dozen  or  twenty  British  officers  with  their  families  at 
a  station  held  by  a  battery  of  native  artillery,  a 
couple  of  squadrons  of  native  horse,  and  a  regiment 
of  native  infantry — all  plotting  revolt  and  murder ! 
Honour  forbade  the  British  to  fiy.  To  show  a  sign  of 
mistrust  or  take  a  single  visible  precaution  would  be 
to  precipitate  the  outbreak.  Many  of  the  old  Bengal 
officers  relied  on  their  Sepoys,  with  a  fond  credulity 
that  nothinof  could  alarm,  and  that  made  them  blind 
and  deaf  to  the  facts  about  them.    "  It  was  not,"  says 

D 


50     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Trevelyan,  "  till  he  saw  his  own  house  in  flames,  and 
not  till  he  looked  down  the  barrels  of  Sepoy  muskets, 
and  heard  Sepoy  bullets  whizzing  round  his  ears, 
that  an  old  Bengal  officer  could  begin  to  believe  that 
his  men  were  not  as  staunch  as  they  ought  to  be." 

But  all  officers  were  not  so  blind  as  this.  They 
knew  their  peril.  They  saw  the  tragedy  coming. 
They  walked  day  after  day  in  front  of  the  line  of  their 
men's  muskets  on  parade,  not  knowing  when  these 
iron  tubes  would  break  into  red  flame  and  flying 
bullets.  They  lay  down  night  after  night,  knowing 
that  the  Sepoys  in  every  hut  were  discussing  the 
exact  manner  and  time  of  their  murder.  Yet  each 
man  kept  an  untroubled  brow,  and  went  patiently 
the  round  of  his  duty,  thanking  God  when  he  had  no 
wife  and  child  at  the  station  to  fall  under  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  mutineers.  Farquhar,  of  the  7th 
Light  Cavalry,  writing  to  his  mother  at  the  time, 
said,  "  I  slept  every  night  dressed,  with  my  revolver 
under  my  pillow,  a  drawn  sword  on  my  bed,  and  a 
loaded  double-barrelled  gun  just  under  my  bed.  We 
remained  in  this  jolly  state,"  he  explained,  "a  fort- 
night." 

When  the  outbreak  came,  and  the  bungalows  were 
in  flames,  and  the  men  were  shouting  and  firing  on 
the  parade-ground,  it  was  a  point  of  honour  among 
the  officers  to  hurry  to  the  scene  and  make  one  last 
appeal  to  them,  dying  too  often  under  the  bullets  of 
their  own  soldiers.     The  survivors  then  had  to  fly, 


DELHI  5  I 

with  their  women  and  children,  and  hide  in  the  hot 
jungle  or  wander  over  the  scorching  plains,  on  which 
the  white  heat  burns  like  a  flame,  suffering  all  the 
torments  of  thirst  and  weariness,  of  undressed 
wounds,  and  of  wearing  fever.  If  some  great  writer, 
with  full  knowledge  and  a  pen  of  fire,  could  write  the 
story  of  Avhat  was  dared  and  suffered  by  Englishmen 
and  Englishwomen  at  a  hundred  scattered  posts 
throughout  the  North- West  Provinces,  in  the  early 
stages  of  the  Mutiny,  it  would  be  one  of  the  most 
moving  and  heroic  tales  in  human  records. 

Sir  Joseph  Fayrer  tells  how,  early  in  1857,  he  was 
a  member  of  a  tiger-shooting  expedition  into  the 
Terai.  It  was  a  merry  party,  and  included  some 
famous  shots  and  great  civil  officials.  They  had 
killed  their  eleventh  tiger  when  the  first  news  of  the 
rising  reached  the  party.  "All  my  companions," 
says  Fayrer,  "  except  Gubbins,  were  victims  of  the 
Mutiny  during  the  year.  Thomason  was  murdered 
at  Shah  Jehanpore;  Gonne  in  the  Mullahpore  dis- 
trict ;  Colonel  Fischer  was  killed  by  the  men  of  his 
own  regiment ;  Thornhill  was  murdered  at  Seetapore  ; 
Lester  was  shot  through  the  neck  during  the  siege  of 
Lucknow  ;  Graydon  was  killed  after  the  first  relief  of 
Lucknow."  Swift-following  deaths  of  this  sort  have 
to  be  multiplied  over  the  whole  area  of  the  Mutiny, 
before  we  can  realise  what  it  cost  in  life. 

Fayrer,  as  a  single  example  of  the  sort  of  tragedies 
which  took  place  on  every  side,  tells  how  his  brother, 


52     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

who  was  an  officer  in  a  regiment  of  irregular  cavalry, 
was  killed.  He  was  second  in  command  of  a  detach- 
ment supposed  to  be  of  loyalty  beyond  suspicion.  It 
had  been  sent  by  Lawrence  from  Lucknow  to  maintain 
order  in  the  unsettled  districts.  There  was  no  sign  that 
the  men  intended  to  rise.  The  morning  bugle  had  gone, 
the  troop  was  ready  to  start,  and  young  Fayrer,Avho  had 
gone  out,  walked  to  a  well  with  his  charger's  bridle 
over  his  arm,  and  was  drinking  water  from  a  cup. 
Suddenly  one  of  his  own  troopers  came  up  behind 
him  and  cut  him  down  through  the  back  of  the  neck 
with  his  tulwar.  "  The  poor  lad — only  twenty-three 
— fell  dead  on  the  spot,  gasping  out  the  word 
'  mother  '  as  he  fell."  The  troopers  instantly  rode  at 
the  three  other  British  officers  of  the  detachment. 
One  of  these  slew  three  Sepoys  before  he  was  killed 
himself;  the  second,  ill  mounted,  was  overtaken  and 
slain;  the  third,  a  splendid  rider,  made  a  reckless 
leap  over  a  nullah,  where  his  pursuers  dared  not 
follow,  and  so  escaped. 

Before  describing  the  great  drama  at  Cawnpore,  or 
Lucknow,  or  Delhi,  it  is  worth  while  to  give,  if  only 
as  hasty  vignettes,  some  pictures  of  what  happened 
at  many  of  the  stations  scattered  through  Oude  and 
the  Punjaub.  They  are  the  opening  episodes  of  a 
stupendous  tragedy. 

According  to  Sir  Herbert  Edwardes,  it  was  the  act 
of  an  English  boy  that  saved  the  Punjaub.  Avery 
youthful  operator — a  mere  lad — named  Brendish,  was 


DELHI  5  3 

by  some  accident  alone  in  tlie  Delhi  Telegraph 
Office.  When  the  Mutiny  broke  out  he  had  to  flee 
like  the  rest ;  but,  before  leaving,  he  wired  a  some- 
what incoherent  message  to  Umballa.  "  We  must 
leave  office,"  it  ran ;  "  all  the  bungalows  are  on  fire, 
burning  down  by  the  Sepoys  of  Meerut.  They  came 
in  this  morning.  .  ,  .  Nine  Europeans  are  killed." 
That  message  reached  Umballa,  was  sent  on  to 
Lahore,  and  w^as  read  there  as  a  danger-signal  so  ex- 
pressive, that  the  authorities  at  once  decided  to  dis- 
arm the  native  troops  at  that  station.  The  cryptic 
message  was  then  flashed  on  to  Peshawur,  and  was 
there  read  in  the  same  sense,  and  acted  upon  with  the 
same  promptitude.  Brendish  was  one  of  the  few  who 
afterwards  escaped  from  Delhi. 

At  some  of  the  stations,  where  cool  heads  and 
steadfast  courage  prevailed,  the  Sepoys  were  dis- 
armed with  swiftness  and  decision.  This  was  espe- 
cially the  case  in  the  Punjaub,  where  the  cause  of 
England  was  upheld  by  the  kingly  brain  of  John 
Lawrence,  the  swift  decision  of  Herbert  Edwardes, 
and  the  iron  courage  of  Neville  Chamberlain  and 
of  John  Nicholson. 

Lord  Roberts  has  told  how,  on  May  12,  he  was 
present  as  scribe  at  a  council  of  war  held  in  Pesha- 
wur. Round  the  table  sat  a  cluster  of  gallant  sol- 
diers, such  as  might  well  take  charge  of  the  fortunes 
of  a  nation  in  the  hour  of  its  deadliest  peril.  Her- 
bert Edwardes  was  there,  and  Neville  Chamberlain, 


54     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

and  Nicholson.  They  had  to  consider  hoAV  to  hold 
the  Punjaub  quiet  while  all  Bengal  was  in  a  flame 
of  mutiny.  The  Punjaub  was  a  newly  conquered 
province;  its  warlike  population  might  well  be  ex- 
pected to  seize  the  first  opportunity  of  rising  against 
its  conquerors.  It  was  held  by  an  army  of  over 
80;000  troops,  and  of  these  only  15,000  were  British 
— the  rest,  some  65,000,  were  almost  sure  to  join  the 
Mutiny.  For  every  British  soldier  in  the  Punjaub, 
that  is,  there  were  four  probable  mutineers,  while 
behind  these  was  a  warlike  population,  just  subdued 
by  the  sword,  and  ready  to  rise  again. 

But  the  cool  heads  that  met  in  that  council  were 
equal  to  their  task.  It  was  resolved  to  disarm  all 
doubtful  regiments,  and  raise  new  forces  in  their 
stead  in  the  Punjaub  itself,  and  from  its  wild  frontier 
clans.  A  movable  column,  light-footed,  hard-hitting, 
was  to  be  formed  under  Neville  Chamberlain's  com- 
mand, with  which  to  smite  at  revolt  whenever  it 
lifted  its  head.  So  the  famous  Movable  Column 
came  into  being,  commanded  in  turn  by  Chamber- 
lain and  by  Nicholson.  That  column  itself  had  to 
be  purged  heroically  again  and  again  to  cleanse  it 
from  mutinous  elements,  till  it  practically  came  to 
consist  of  one  field-battery,  one  troop  of  horse-artil- 
lery, and  one  infantry  regiment,  all  British.  Then 
it  played  a  great  part  in  the  wild  scenes  of  the 
Mutiny. 

Before  new  levies  could  be  raised  in  the  Punjaub, 


DELHI  5  5 

however,  the  English  had  to  give  some  striking 
proof  of  decision  and  strength.  No  Indian  race 
will  fight  for  masters  who  do  not  show  some  faculty 
for  command.  The  crisis  came  at  Peshawur  itself, 
towards  the  end  of  May.  The  Sepoys  had  fixed 
May  22  for  rising  against  their  officers.  On  the 
2ist  the  64th  Native  Infantry  was  to  march  into 
Peshawur,  and  on  the  following  morning  the  revolt 
was  to  take  place.  Herbert  Edwardes  and  Nicholson, 
however,  were  the  last  men  in  the  world  to  be  caught 
off  their  guard.  At  7  a.m.  on  the  morning  of  the 
2ist,  parade  was  held,  and,  as  the  result  of  some 
clever  manoeuvres,  the  five  native  regiments  found 
themselves  confronted  by  a  line  of  British  muskets, 
and  ordered  to  "  pile  arms."  The  intending  muti- 
neers were  reduced,  almost  with  a  gesture,  to  the 
condition  of  an  unarmed  mob,  and  that  lightning- 
stroke  of  decision  saved  the  Punjaub.  Levies  poured 
in  ;  new  regiments  rose  like  magic ;  a  loyal  army 
became  possible. 

Little  more  than  a  fortnight  afterwards,  Neville 
Chamberlain  discovered  a  plot  in  the  35  th  Native 
Infantry,  and  promptly  blew  two  ringleaders  from 
the  guns,  the  first  instance  of  that  dramatic  form 
of  punishment  in  the  Mutiny.  Later,  when  Nichol- 
son took  command  of  the  Movable  Column,  he  was 
compelled  to  disarm  two  native  regiments,  the  35  th 
and  the  33rd.  The  33rd  was  on  its  march  to  join 
the  column,  and  Nicholson  conducted  the  business 


56     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

with  so  nice  an  adjustment  of  time  and  method  that 
the  35  th  had  been  disarmed,  and  their  muskets  and 
belts  packed  in  carts  and  sent  off  to  the  fort,  just  as 
the  33rd  marched  up.  As  it  halted  it  found  itself, 
not  side  by  side  with  a  regiment  of  accomplices,  but 
in  front  of  a  long  and  menacing  line  of  British 
infantry  and  guns,  and  Roberts  himself  rode  for- 
ward with  the  order  to  its  colonel  to  pile  arms. 
"  What !  disarm  my  regiment  ? "  said  that  astonished 
officer,  Avho  Avas  serenely  unconscious  that  there  was 
a  mutinous  brain  under  every  shako  in  his  regi- 
ment. When  the  order  was  repeated,  the  old  colonel 
broke  into  actual  tears.  But  there  were  sterner  wills 
and  stronger  brains  than  his  in  command,  and  the 
33rd  was,  in  turn,  reduced  to  harmlessness. 

At  Lahore,  again,  the  Sepoys  had  an  elaborate 
plot  to  kill  their  officers,  overpower  the  European 
troops,  and  seize  the  treasury  and  the  guns.  Lahore 
was  a  city  of  90,000  inhabitants,  with  a  garrison  of 
2500  Sepoys  in  the  city  itself.  The  city  troops  were 
to  rise  first,  and  their  success  was  to  be  signalled  to 
Meanmeer,  the  military  cantonment,  six  miles  dis- 
tant. Mutiny  at  Lahore  was  to  be  followed  by  revolt 
through  all  the  military  stations  of  the  district,  from 
the  Rabee  to  the  Sutlej.  The  plot,  however,  was  dis- 
covered. General  Corbett,  a  cool  and  gallant  soldier, 
resolved  to  disarm  the  whole  native  garrison. 

On  the  night  of  May  1 2,  three  days  before  the  date 
fixed  for  the  Mutiny,  a  military  ball  was  to  be  held. 


DELHI  57 

This  arrangement  was  not  changed,  lest  the  sus- 
picions of  the  Sepoys  should  be  aroused,  and  dancing 
was  kept  up  till  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Then 
the  officers  at  grey  dawn  hurried  to  the  parade- 
ground,  where,  by  instructions  issued  the  day  before, 
the  whole  brigade  was  assembled,  nominally  to  hear 
some  general  orders  read.  These  were  read  in  the 
usual  fashion  at  the  head  of  each  rec^iment.  Then 
some  brigade  manoeuvres  followed,  and  these  were  so 
adroitly  arranged  that,  at  their  close,  the  native  regi- 
ments found  themselves  in  quarter-distance  column, 
with  five  companies  of  a  British  regiment,  the  8ist, 
opposite  them  in  line,  the  guns  being  still  in  the  rear 
of  the  8 1  St. 

In  a  single  sentence,  brief  and  stern,  the  order  was 
given  for  the  native  regiments  to  "  pile  arms."  The 
Grenadiers  of  the  i6th,  to  whom  the  order  was  first 
addressed,  hesitated ;  the  men  began  to  handle  their 
arms;  for  one  breathless  moment  it  was  doubtful 
whether  they  would  obey  or  fight.  But  simultaneously 
with  the  words  "pile  arms,"  the  Sist  had  fallen  back, 
coolly  and  swiftly,  between  the  guns,  and  the  Sepoys, 
almost  at  a  breath,  found  themselves  covered  by  a 
battery  of  twelve  pieces  loaded  with  grape,  the  artil- 
lerymen standing  in  position  with  burning  port-fires, 
whilst  along  the  line  of  the  8 1  st  behind  ran  the  stern 
order,  "  Load,"  and  already  the  click  of  the  ramrods 
in  the  muskets  was  heard. 

The  nerve  of  the  Sepoys  failed  1     Sullenly  they 


58     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

piled  arms,  and  600  English,  by  adroitness  and 
daring,  disarmed  2500  Sepoys  without  a  shot !  What 
five  minutes  before  had  been  a  menace  to  the  British 
power  was  made  harmless. 

Montgomery,  the  chief  civil  officer  at  Lahore, 
divides  with  Corbett  the  honour  of  the  brilliant 
stroke  of  soldiership  which  saved  the  city.  Never 
was  there  a  less  heroic  figure  in  outward  appearance 
than  that  of  Montgomery.  He  was  short,  stout,  soft- 
spoken,  rubicund-faced,  and  bore,  indeed,  a  ludicrous 
resemblance  to  Mr.  Pickwick  as  depicted  by  the 
humorous  pencil  of  "Phiz."  He  was  familiarly 
known,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  to  all  Englishmen  in  his 
province  by  the  sobriquet  of  "Pickwick."  But 
nature  sometimes  conceals  an  heroic  spirit  within 
a  very  unheroic-looking  body.  If  in  outward  look 
there  was  something  sheep-like  in  Montgomery's 
appearance,  there  was  a  lion-like  strain  in  his 
courage.  He  had  only  a  hint  of  the  coming  storm. 
A  couple  of  scanty  telegrams  brought  in  the  news 
of  the  mutiny  at  Meerut  and  the  seizure  of  Delhi. 
With  quick  vision  Montgomery  read  the  temper  of 
the  native  troops  at  Meanmeer,  and,  with  swifter  de- 
cision than  even  that  of  Corbett,  he  advised  that  they 
should  be  instantly  disarmed.  That  decision  averted 
a  great  disaster. 

The  whole  story  shows  what  is  possible  to  clear 
judgment  and  resolute  courage;  but  where  these 
failed,  or  where  some  old  Ben<?al  officer  retained  his 


DELHI  59 

blind  and  fond  credulity  as  to  the  "  staunchness  "  of 
his  men,  then  great  tragedies  became  possible. 

Thus  at  Futteghur,  some  seventy  miles  from  Cawn- 
pore,  the  loth  Native  Infantry,  with  some  irregular 
troops,  held  the  cantonments.  General  Goldie  was 
divisional  commander ;  Colonel  Smith  held  command 
of  the  loth,  and  cherished  a  piously  confident  belief 
in  the  loyalty  of  his  Sepoys.  The  civilians,  with  a 
shrewder  insight  into  the  state  of  affairs,  believed 
mutiny  certain,  and  murder  highly  probable,  and  de- 
termined to  leave  the  station.  On  June  4  a  little 
fleet  of  boats,  laden  with  almost  the  entire  English 
colony  in  the  place — merchants,  shopkeepers,  mis- 
sionaries, with  their  wives  and  children — started 
down  the  river,  to  the  huge  disgust  of  Colonel  Smith, 
who  thought  their  departure  a  libel  on  his  beloved 
Sepoys.  Part  of  the  company  found  refuge  with  a 
friendly  Zemindar,  while  three  boats,  containing 
nearly  seventy  persons — of  whom  forty-nine  were 
women  and  children — pushed  on  to  Cawnpore.  In 
Cawnpore,  however,  though  they  were  in  ignorance  of 
the  fact,  Wheeler  and  his  gallant  few  were  already 
hghting  for  life  against  overwhelming  odds. 

News  soon  reached  the  Sepoy  lines  at  Cawnpore 
that  three  boat-loads  of  Sahibs  were  on  the  river,  and 
a  rush  was  made  for  them.  The  poor  victims  had 
pulled  in  to  the  bank  and  were  enjoying  "afternoon 
tea  "  when  the  horde  of  mutineers  burst  upon  them. 
Some  tried  to  hide  in  the  long  grass,  which  was  set 


6o     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

on  fire  above  them.  The  rest,  scorched,  wounded, 
half-naked,  with  bleeding  feet — mothers  trying  to 
shelter  or  carry  their  children — were  dragged  to  the 
presence  of  Nana  Sahib.  The  ladies  and  children 
were  ordered  to  sit  on  the  ground ;  their  husbands, 
with  their  hands  tied,  wore  arranged  in  careful  order 
behind  them.  Being  thus  picturesquely  arranged  for 
easy  murder,  some  files  of  the  2nd  Cavalry  were 
marched  up  to  kill  the  whole.  The  process  was 
lengthy,  wives  clinging  to  their  husbands,  mothers 
trying  to  shelter  their  little  ones  with  their  own 
bodies  from  the  keen  cavalry  swords.  Nana  Sahib 
watched  the  whole  process  with  the  leisurely  and  dis- 
criminating interest  of  a  connoisseur. 

On  June  i8  Colonel  Smith's  trusted  Sepoys  broke 
into  open  revolt  at  the  station,  whence  these  poor 
fugitives  had  fled.  The  little  British  garrison,  con- 
sisting of  thirty  fighting  men,  with  sixty  ladies  and 
children,  took  refuge  in  a  low  mud  fort,  and  held  it 
for  nearly  three  weeks.  Then  they  fought  their  way 
to  their  boats  and  fled.  They  were  fiercely  pursued. 
One  boat  grounded,  and  its  miserable  passengers 
were  summarily  murdered.  Death  by  bullets,  by 
sunstroke,  by  drowning,  pursued  the  rest.  One  boat- 
load escaped,  but  escaped  only  to  reach  Cawnpore, 
and  to  perish  amid  the  horrors  of  the  slaughter-house 
there. 

One  survivor  has  left  a  record  of  that  dreadful 
voyage.     He  was  in  the  boat  tliat  first  grounded  and 


DELHI  6 1 

was  boarded  by  the  Sepoj^s.  He  describes  liow  the 
passengers  were  shot,  and  how  "  Major  Eobertson, 
seeing  no  hope,  begged  the  ladies  to  come  into  the 
water  rather  than  fall  into  their  hands.  While  the 
ladies  were  throwing:  themselves  into  the  water  I 
jumped  into  the  boat,  took  up  a  loaded  musket,  and, 
going  astern,  shot  a  Sepoy.  .  .  .  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fisher 
were  about  twenty  yards  from  the  boat ;  he  had  his 
child  in  his  arms,  apparently  lifeless.  Mrs.  Fisher 
could  not  stand  against  the  current ;  her  dress,  which 
acted  like  a  sail,  knocked  her  down,  when  she  was 
helped  up  by  Mr.  Fisher.  .  .  .  Early  the  next  morning 
a  voice  hailed  us  from  the  shore,  which  avc  recognised 
as  Mr.  Fisher's.  He  came  on  board,  and  informed 
us  that  his  poor  wife  and  child  had  been  drowned  in 
his  arms." 

For  skill,  daring,  and  promptitude,  nothing  ex- 
ceeded the  fashion  in  which  the  incipient  mutiny  at 
Multan  was  trampled  out.  At  no  other  post  were 
the  conditions  more  perilous.  The  garrison  consisted 
of  a  troop  of  native  horse-artillery,  two  regiments  of 
native  infantry,  and  the  ist  Irregular  Cavalry;  the 
only  English  troops  were  50  artillerymen  in  charge 
of  the  magazine.  Here,  then,  were  50  British  artil- 
lerymen, without  guns,  opposed  to  over  3000  Sepoys 
— horse,  foot,  and  artillery  ! 

The  decisive  factor  in  the  problem  was  the  char- 
acter of  the  British  commander,  Major  Chamberlain. 
His  strong  will  and  genius  for  command  held  the  ist 


62     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

Irregular  Cavalry  steady.  They  were  Hindus  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  Delhi,  with  a  full  measure  of 
the  superstition  and  pride  of  caste  which  swept  away 
other  regiments.  But  they  believed  in  their  com- 
mander. He  swayed  their  imaginations  as  with  a 
touch  of  magic.  The  spell  of  his  looks  and  voice,  his 
imperious  will,  overbore  the  impulse  to  revolt.  His 
men  declared  they  would  follow  him  to  the  death  ! 
Chamberlain  resolved  to  disarm  the  other  native 
regiments,  and  he  performed  the  perilous  feat,  not 
only  with  miraculous  audacity,  but  with  a  miraculous 
nicety  of  arrangement. 

The  2nd  Punjaub  Infantry  and  the  ist  Punjaub 
Cavalry  were  to  arrive  at  the  station  on  a  given 
day.  They  were  natiTO  troops,  but  could — for  the 
moment  at  least — be  trusted.  The  new  troops  came 
in  at  nightfall.  At  4  a.m.  the  next  morning  the  two 
Sepoy  regiments  and  a  troop  of  native  artillery  were 
marched  out  as  if  for  an  ordinary  parade.  They 
were  suddenly  halted ;  the  Punjaub  troops  quietly 
marched  betwixt  them  and  their  lines ;  the  fifty 
English  gunners  took  their  places  beside  the  guns  of 
the  native  artillery,  and  a  little  band  of  Sikh  cavalry 
that  could  be  trusted  rode  up  to  the  flank  of  the  guns. 

Then  Chamberlain  gave  the  order  to  the  suspected 
regiments  to  "  pile  arms."  One  Sepoy  shouted^ 
"  Don't  give  up  your  arms !  Fight  for  them ; "  but 
his  English  adjutant  instantly  grasped  him  by  the 
throat,  shook  him  as  a  terrier  would  shake  a  rat,  and 


DELHI  63 

flung  him  on  the  ground.  The  mutinous  Sepoys 
hesitated ;  their  courage  sank ;  they  meekly  piled 
arms,  were  marched  back  weaponless  to  their  bar- 
racks, and  the  station  was  saved.  But  it  was  a  great 
feat  to  disarm  a  whole  garrison  with  only  fifty  English 
gunners.  The  regiment  of  irregular  cavalry  was 
permanently  saved  by  the  spell  of  Chamberlain's 
authority,  and,  as  a  reward,  is  still  the  ist  Regiment 
of  Bengal  Cavalry. 

Some  of  the  revolting  regiments,  it  is  satisfactory 
to  know,  had  very  distressful  experiences.  They 
found  that  mutiny  was  a  bad  investment.  Let  the 
tale  of  the  55  th,  for  example,  be  told.  The  regiment 
broke  into  open  mutiny  at  Mardan  on  May  22,  fired 
on  their  officers,  and  marched  off  to  the  hills  with 
the  regimental  colours  and  treasure.  Its  colonel, 
Spottiswoode,  blew  out  his  brains  in  mingled  grief 
and  despair  when  he  saw  his  "  faithful "  Sepoys  in 
open  revolt. 

Meanwhile,  the  most  menacing  figure  in  all  the 
great  drama  of  the  Mutiny — that  of  Nicholson — made 
its  appearance  on  the  track  of  the  mutineers.  Nichol- 
son overtook  them  on  the  24th,  after  a  ride  of  seventy 
miles,  slew  150,  captured  another  150  with  the  stolen 
colours,  and  promptly  executed  forty  of  his  prisoners 
by  bloAving  them  from  his  guns.  The  rest  of  the 
broken  regiment  crossed  the  border,  were  hunted 
down  by  the  hill-tribes,  fell  into  the  hands  of  Moham- 
medan fanatics,  were  "  converted  "  by  the  argument 


64     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

of  whip  and  sword,  or  were  sold  as  slaves.  "  One  fat 
old  subahdar,"  says  Mr.  Cave-Browne,  "  was  sold  for 
four  annas  (sixpence) "  !  Mutiny,  it  is  clear,  proved  a 
very  bitter  experience  for  the  unhappy  55th!  The 
legend  that  has  grown  round  the  wanderings  of  this 
broken  regiment  is  told  by  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling  in 
his  vivid  story,  "  The  Lost  Legion." 


CHAPTER  III 

STAMPING   OUT    MUTINY 

PERHAPS  the  most  cliaracteristic  story  of  Sepoy 
outbreak  is  that  at  Allahabad.  The  city  stands 
at  the  junction  of  the  Ganges  and  the  Jumna,  500 
miles  from  Calcutta,  and,  with  its  strong  fortress  and 
great  arsenal,  was  a  strategic  point  scarcely  second 
in  importance  to  Delhi.  It  had  a  population  of 
75,000,  highly  fanatical  in  temper.  Its  arsenal  was 
one  of  the  largest  in  India,  having  arms  for  40,000 
men  and  great  stores  of  artillery.  Yet,  with  the 
exception  of  the  magazine  staff,  there  was  not  a 
British  soldier  in  the  city !  It  was  garrisoned  by  the 
6th  Native  Infantry,  a  wing  of  a  Sikh  regiment,  the 
9th,  a  battery  of  native  artillery,  and  some  native 
cavalry. 

Colonel  Simpson  of  the  6th,  who  was  in  command, 
cherished  the  most  enthusiastic  faith  in  his  men. 
He  looked  on  his  cherished  Sepoys  as  a  regiment  of 
mere  dusky-skinned  Sir  Galahads ;  each  one  of  them 
was  as  faithful  as  Milton's  Abdiel !  Some  sixty 
superannuated  British  artillerymen,  the  youngest  of 
them  over  fifty  years  of  age,  had  been  thrown  hur- 
riedly into  the  fort  itself  as  a  garrison ;  and  Colonel 

65  jj 


66  THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Simpson  strongly  urged  tliat  his  regiment  should  be 
taken  into  the  fort  in  their  place  as  "  a  proof  of  con- 
fidence." This  would  have  been  like  putting  a  com- 
mittee of  wolves  inside  the  fold  ! 

At  evening  parade  on  June  6,  Colonel  Simpson 
read  to  his  Sepoys  the  formal  thanks  of  the  Gover- 
nor-General for  their  virtuous  offer  to  go  out  and 
fight  the  wicked  mutineers  at  Delhi.  He  added  a 
glowing  eulogium  of  their  loyalty  on  his  own  ac- 
count. The  Sepoys  cheered,  Colonel  Simpson  and 
his  fellow-officers  adjourned  to  the  mess-room,  and 
no  doubt  discoursed  with  great  comfort  on  the 
much-enduring  fidelity  of  their  men.  Within  four 
hours  of  being  thanked  by  Lord  Canning  and  praised 
by  Colonel  Simpson,  the  ''faithful"  Sepoys  of  the 
6th  Infantry  had  murdered  seventeen  officers  and  all 
the  women  and  children  of  English  blood  they  could 
capture,  and  were  in  full  march  to  Delhi. 

The  tale  is  typical.  At  nine  o'clock  a  bugle  call 
sounded  from  the  lines — it  was  the  signal  for  revolt. 
The  men  rushed  to  arms.  The  Sepoy  artillerymen 
holding  the  bridge  swung  their  guns  round,  and 
opened  fire  on  their  officers.  Harward  and  Alex- 
ander, in  command  of  the  Native  Irregular  Horse, 
and  both  officers  of  great  promise,  leaped  into  their 
saddles,  and  galloped  fiercely  to  the  bridge  to  recap- 
ture the  guns.  When  they  gave  the  order  to 
charge,  their  treacherous  followers  suddenly  pulled 
up ;    and,    followed    by    only    three    troopers,    the 


STAMPING    OUT   MUTINY  67 

officers  rode  at  the  guns.  Alexander,  rising  in  his 
stirrups  for  one  gallant  sword-stroke,  Avas  shot 
through  the  heart;  and  Harward  had  to  gallop 
for  his  life. 

Simpson  and  his  officers  in  the  meanwhile  ran  to 
the  parade-ground  to  "  expostulate "  with  their  men. 
Five  officers  were  instantly  shot  down.  Colonel 
Simpson  was  beginning  to  address  a  new  series  of 
compliments  to  his  faithful  Sepoys,  but  they  turned 
their  muskets  upon  him,  and  interrupted  his  elo- 
quence with  a  volley.  By  some  miracle  he  escaped 
and  galloped  off  to  the  fort.  He  had  to  ride  past  the 
mess-house,  and  the  mess  guard  turned  out  and  took 
pot  shots  at  him  as  he  rode.  The  unhappy  colonel 
reached  the  gate  of  the  fort  with  a  dying  horse,  a 
wounded  arm,  and  an  entirely  new  theory  of  Sepoy 
loyalty. 

But  was  the  fort  itself  safe  ?  Its  garrison  consisted 
of  the  sixty  odd  superannuated  artillerymen,  a  few 
civilian  volunteers,  the  wing  of  a  Sikh  regiment,  and 
a  company  of  the  9th  Native  Infantry.  These  men 
held  the  gate,  and  were,  of  course,  only  Avaiting  to 
open  it  to  their  revolted  comrades.  If  the  Sikhs 
joined  hands  with  them,  there  remained  nothing  but 
hopeless  massacre  for  the  British.  And  only  five 
days  before,  at  Benares,  it  must  be  remembered,  a 
Sikh  regiment  had  opened  fire  on  its  officers !  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  Sikhs  in  the  fort  were  effervescing 
with   excitement.      Mutiny  was   in   the   air.     Upon 


6S  THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

whom  the  Sikh  muskets  might  be  turned,  their 
owners  themselves  scarcely  knew.  It  was  a  crisis 
of  the  sort  which  overwhelms  weak  men,  but  gives  a 
man  of  heroic  will  a  supreme  opportunity.  And,  for- 
tunately, a  man  with  all  the  decision  and  courage 
the  moment  needed  was  on  the  spot. 

Lieutenant  Brasyer  had  fought  as  a  private  in  the 
ranks  through  the  Sutlej  campaigns,  and  won  a  com- 
mission by  his  coolness  and  daring.  He  possessed 
exactly  the  genius  needed  for  commanding  irregular 
soldiery.  He  was  an  athlete,  a  fine  swordsman,  a 
man  of  the  swiftest  decision  and  most  gallant  courage. 
He  is  not  unworthy,  indeed,  to  be  ranked  for  leader- 
ship and  personal  daring  with  Hodson  of  "  Hodson's 
Horse."  Brasyer  had  first  to  master  his  Sikhs, 
trembling  on  the  verge  of  revolt  themselves.  Archi- 
bald Forbes  has  described  his  method :  "  Standing 
over  the  magazine  with  a  red-hot  iron  in  his  hand, 
he  swore  by  Nanac,  Ram  Das,  Govind,  and  all  other 
Gooroos  of  the  Sikhs,  that  if  his  men  did  not  promptly 
fall  in  and  obey  his  orders  he  would  blow  the  regi- 
ment to  the  Sikh  equivalent  of  Hades." 

Brasyer's  glance  and  voice,  his  imperious  will  and 
daring,  mastered  the  Sikhs,  and  they  fell  obediently 
into  rank.  He  instantly  marched  them  down,  with 
loaded  muskets,  to  the  gate,  and,  with  the  help  of  the 
artillerymen  with  their  portfires,  drove  out  the  com- 
pany of  Sepoys  that  held  it,  and  the  fort  was  saved ! 
But  to  master  Sepoys  in  open  revolt,  by  Sikhs  on  the 


STAMPING   OUT   MUTINY  69 

edge  of  revolt,  was  a  great  feat,  and  shows  for  liow 
much,  at  such  a  crisis,  one  clear  heroic  will  counts. 

That  night  Allahabad  was  given  up  to  outrage  and 
murder.  Only  above  the  fort  itself  flew  the  flag  of 
England,  and  in  the  fort  the  handful  of  British 
officers,  determined  that  the  great  arsenal  should  not 
fall  into  the  hands  of  mutineers,  were  preparing 
to  copy  Willoughby's  desperate  example  at  Delhi. 
Russell,  of  the  artillery,  who  was  in  charge  of  the 
magazine,  ran  trains  of  powder  into  it,  and  stood 
ready  to  blow  it  up  in  the  event  of  capture. 

In  the  city  itself  every  European  or  Eurasian  was 
hunted  like  a  rat  through  the  streets,  and  slain  with 
every  accompaniment  of  cruelty.  Outrage,  in  the 
ordinary  sense,  was  not,  on  the  whole,  a  marked 
feature  of  the  Great  Mutiny.  The  Sepoys,  that  is, 
were  on  fire  with  cruelty  rather  than  with  lust.  But 
their  cruelty  spared  neither  age  nor  sex.  The  wife  of 
a  captain,  according  to  one  story  current  at  the  time 
— and  perhaps  not  true — was  literally  boiled  alive  in 
ghee,  or  melted  butter.  Children  were  tossed  on 
bayonets,  men  roasted  in  the  flames  of  their  own 
bungalows ;  women  were  mutilated  and  dismem- 
bered. The  Sepoys  plundered  the  Treasury,  carrying 
ofl"  some  ;^300,ooo  in  booty. 

One  detail  of  the  Allahabad  massacre  peculiarly 
shocked  the  imasrination  of  British  soldiers  wherever 
the  tale  was  told.  At  the  mess- table  of  the  gth,  that 
fatal  night,  there   sat  eight  fresh-faced  and  boyish 


70  THE   TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

cadets  just  out  from  England.  They  had  not  yet 
joined  their  regiments,  and  military  life,  with  all  its 
fun  and  excitement,  lay  in  the  glamour  of  the 
unknown  before  them.  When  the  bugle  rang  out  on 
the  parade-ground  these  eight  unposted  boy  ensigns 
ran  out  with  the  other  officers.  They  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  mutineers,  and  seven  had  their  throats 
cut  like  sheep.  The  eighth,  a  boy  of  sixteen,  was 
loft  for  dead,  but  survived  in  spite  of  horrible  wounds 
for  four  days,  hiding  himself  in  a  ravine.  On  the 
fifth  day  he  was  discovered,  dragged  to  the  native 
lines,  and  thrust  into  a  hut  as  a  prisoner. 

He  found  there  a  Christian  catechist,  who  had 
formerly  been  a  Mohammedan,  and  who  was  being 
tortured  by  the  Sepoys  to  make  him  renounce  his 
faith.  The  catechist's  courage  had  given  way,  but 
the  gallant  English  lad — himself  only  sixteen  years 
of  age — urged  the  unhappy  catechist,  "Don't  deny 
Christ !  Never  deny  Christ ! "  Neill  reached  Alla- 
habad in  time  to  rescue  both  catechist  and  ensign. 
But  the  ensign,  Arthur  Cheek,  died  of  his  wounds 
four  days  after  Neill's  arrival.  He  had  joined  his 
regiment  just  eighteen  days  when  murdered  in  this 
tragical  fashion  by  his  own  men.  It  may  be  imagined 
how  the  massacre  of  the  "  poor  little  griffins  "  moved 
the  British  soldier  to  wrath  everywhere. 

For  a  few  days  mutiny  and  riot  reigned  supreme  at 
Allahabad.  Then,  hot  from  Benares,  there  appeared 
on  the  scene  Neill  with  a  handful  of  his  "  Lambs,"  as 


STAMPING    OUT    MUTINY  71 

the  Madras  Fusileers,  with  admiring  irony,  were 
called.  "  Thank  God,  sir,"  said  the  sentry  at  the  gate 
of  the  fort,  as  jSTeill  rode  in ;  "  you'll  save  us  yet ! " 

Neill  is  one  of  the  cluster  of  great  soldiers  thrust 
into  sudden  fame  by  the  crisis  of  the  Mutiny,  and  is 
hardly  to  be  judged  by  the  standard  of  smaller  men 
and  of  a  tamer  period.  He  was  of  Scottish  blood,  an 
Ayrshire  man,  with  a  vehement  fighting  quality,  and 
a  strain  of  iron  resolve,  wdiich  had  come  to  him, 
perhaps,  from  a  line  of  Covenanting  ancestry.  He 
was  a  veteran  soldier,  accustomed  to  govern  wild 
clans  and  irregular  troops,  and  had  held  high  com- 
mand in  the  Turkish  contingent  in  the  Crimea.  On 
the  domestic  side,  he  was,  as  many  stern  and  rough- 
natured  men  are,  of  singular  tenderness.  He  was 
strongly  religious,  too,  though  he  borrowed  his  reli- 
gion rather  from  the  Old  Testament  than  the  New. 

When  the  Mutiny  broke  out  Neill  found  himself  in 
command  of  the  Madras  Fusileers,  a  regiment  which 
included  many  wild  spirits  in  its  ranks,  but  which,  in 
fighting  quality,  was  a  warlike  instrument  of  singular 
efficiency.  Neill  and  his  "Lambs"  were  summoned 
from  Madras  by  the  crisis  in  Bengal,  and  Neill's  best 
qualities,  as  well  as  his  worst — his  fighting  impulse, 
his  Scottish  pride  of  race,  the  natural  vehemence  of 
his  temper,  his  soldierly  hate  of  mutiny,  the  wrath  of 
a  strong  man  at  outrages  on  women  and  children,  and 
his  fierce  contempt  for  the  feebleness  shown  by  some 
of  the  "  arm-chair  colonels  "  of  the  Bengal  Army — all 


72     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

threw  their  owner  into  a  mood  in  which  he  was  pre- 
pared to  dare  anything  to  crush  the  Mutiny  and  to 
punish  the  mutineers. 

The  Fusileers  landed  on  the  railway  wharf  at  Cal- 
cutta, as  night  fell,  on  May  23.  The  great  city  of 
Benares  was  on  the  verge  of  revolt,  and  Neill's 
"Lambs"  were  to  be  hurried  up  by  express  to  its 
rescue.  The  station-master  told  Neill  that  unless  he 
could  get  his  men  ashore  in  three  minutes  the  train 
AYould  start  without  them.  But  Neill  was  not  the 
man  to  allow  a  railway  time-table  to  stand  betwixt 
him  and  the  suppression  of  a  mutiny.  With  an 
abrupt  gesture,  he  put  the  station-master  in  charge 
of  a  sergeant  and  a  file  of  Fusileers.  The  unhappy 
official  shouted  for  help,  but  in  another  second 
stokers,  firemen,  and  guard  were  in  a  row  against  the 
station  wall,  with  a  couple  of  "  blue-caps  "  in  charge 
of  each.  At  the  double  the  Fusileers  came  up  the 
wharf,  filed  into  the  carriages,  and  the  train,  carrying 
the  left  wing  of  the  regiment,  moved  off  to  Raneegange ; 
thence  the  detachment  was  carried  by  bullock-carts 
to  Benares.  Leaving  the  bulk  of  his  men  to  follow, 
Neill  pushed  on  with  the  leading  detachment  to 
Benares. 

Nowhere,  perhaps,  did  English  courage  shine  out 
with  a  clearer  flame  than  at  Benares.  Benares  is  the 
holy  city  of  Hinduism ;  it  had  a  population  of 
300,000,  fanatical  and  turbulent  in  the  highest 
degree.     The  cantonment  was  held  by  three  Sepoy 


STAMPING   OUT   MUTINY  73 

regiments — all  pledged  to  revolt — 150  men  of  a 
British  regiment,  the  loth,  and  some  thirty  British 
gunners,  with  half  a  battery  of  artillery,  under  the 
command  of  Olpherts.  But  the  cluster  of  soldiers 
and  civilians  responsible  for  the  city — Tucker  the 
commissioner,  Frederick  Gubbins  the  judge,  Lind 
the  magistrate,  Ponsonby  the  brigadier,  and  Olpherts 
in  command  of  the  guns — held  on  to  their  post ;  by 
mere  cool  audacity  kept  the  turbulent  city  in  awe, 
and  the  mutinous  Sepoys  from  breaking  out;  and 
sent  on  to  other  posts  in  greater  peril  than  their 
own  such  scanty  reinforcements  of  British  troops 
as  reached  them.  In  the  Commissioner,  Tucker,  at 
least,  this  heroic  courage  had  a  religious  root.  "  The 
twenty-second  chapter  of  2  Samuel,"  he  wrote  to 
Lord  Canning,  "  was  their  stand-by."  "  The  Lord  is 
my  rock,  and  my  fortress,  and  my  deliverer,"  is  the 
opening  verse  of  David's  song  in  that  chapter ;  "  the 
God  of  my  rock ;  in  Him  will  I  trust.  He  is  my 
shield,  and  the  horn  of  my  salvation,  my  high  tower, 
and  my  refuge." 

Neill  reached  the  city  on  June  3,  and  found  him- 
self on  the  very  edge  of  a  tragedy.  The  Sepoys  had 
arranged  for  an  outbreak  on  the  night  of  June  4. 
The  native  troops  numbered  over  2000 ;  the  British 
troops,  as  we  have  seen,  consisted  of  1 50  men  of  the 
loth,  and  thirty  artillerymen  with  three  guns.  To 
these  Neill  added  sixty  of  his  "  Lambs "  whom  he 
had  brought  with  him.     Neill  put  the  impress  of  his 


74     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

vehement  will  on  the  brigadier,  Ponsonby,  in  charge 
of  the  station,  and  at  half-an-hour's  notice  it  was  re- 
solved to  disarm  the  Sepoys. 

The  business  was  ill-managed.  The  Sepoys  com- 
menced to  shoot,  the  Sikhs  turned  on  their  officers. 
Ponsonby,  an  old  man,  found  "  the  sun "  and  the 
strain  of  the  scene  too  much  for  him,  and  visibly 
broke  down.  He  dismounted,  and  Neill,  who  had 
been  grimly  watching  the  scene,  said  abruptly, 
"  General,  I  assume  command."  Ponsonby  assented 
in  silence,  and  Neill  instantly  opened  on  the  muti- 
neers with  grape  and  musketry  fire,  and,  after  a  few 
minutes'  furious  shooting,  Sikh  and  Sepoy  fled.  The 
250,  that  is,  destroyed,  in  a  military  sense,  the  2000 ! 

Having  stamped  out  the  Mutiny — or,  rather, 
scattered  the  mutineers — Neill  devoted  the  next  two 
or  three  days  to  punishing  it.  The  Governor-General 
telegraphed  orders  to  push  on  to  Allahabad,  but 
Neill  believed  in  making  thorough  work,  and  he 
wired  back,  "  Can't  move ;  wanted  here."  And  for 
the  next  three  days  he  kept  the  gallows  busy,  and 
hanged  without  pause  or  pity.  The  Sepoys  had  shot 
doAvn  their  officers,  and  murdered  women  and  chil- 
dren, and  Neill  was  bent  on  showing  that  this  was 
a  performance  which  brought  in  its  track  swift  and 
terrible  punishment.  "  Colonel  Neill's  hangings " 
were,  no  doubt,  of  heroic  scale,  and,  looked  at  through 
the  cold  perspective  of  forty  years,  wear  a  very  black 
aspect.     But  Neill,  rightly  or  wrongly,  held  that  to 


STAMPING    OUT    MUTINY  75 

strike,  and  to  strike  hard,  and  to  strike  swiftly,  was 
the  one  policy  in  such  a  crisis. 

Benares  being  secure,  Neill  pushed  on  across  the 
seventy  miles  of  dusty,  heat-scorched  road  to  Alla- 
habad. He  started  with  only  forty-four  of  his 
"  Lambs,"  and  covered  the  seventy  miles  in  two  night 
marches.  When  they  reached  the  Ganges,  almost 
every  fourth  man  was  down  with  sunstroke,  Neill 
himself  being  amongst  the  number,  and  his  men  only 
kept  him  up  by  dashing  buckets  of  Avater  over  his 
head  and  chest.  The  boat  pushed  from  the  bank ; 
it  was  found  to  leak  at  a  dozen  points,  and  began  to 
sink.  The  "blue-caps"  relanded,  and  their  officer, 
Spurgin,  called  for  volunteers  to  beat  the  banks  of 
the  river  in  search  of  another  boat. 

Almost  every  man  able  to  walk  volunteered,  and, 
in  the  heavy  sand  of  the  river-bank,  with  the 
furnace-like  heat  of  an  Indian  sun  settino-  on  fire 
the  very  air  they  breathed,  the  Fusileers  began 
their  search  for  a  boat  to  carry  them  across  to 
Allahabad.  More  than  one  brave  fellow  fell  and 
died  from  heat  and  exhaustion.  But  a  boat  was 
found,  the  gallant  forty  crossed,  and  marched — 
as  many  of  them  as  could  still  keep  their  feet — 
a  tiny  but  dauntless  band,  through  the  gates  of 
the  fort. 

Other  detachments  followed  quickly,  and  Neill 
flung  himself  with  all  the  fire  of  his  Scottish  blood 
into   the   task   of  restoring   the  British   raj    in   the 


76     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

great  city.  At  daybreak  he  opened  with  his  guns, 
from  the  fort,  on  the  suburb  held  by  the  revolted 
Sepoys,  and  then  sallied  out  with  his  scanty  force, 
and  burnt  it  over  their  rebel  heads.  "  I  myself," 
he  wrote  to  his  wife,  "was  almost  dying  from  com- 
plete exhaustion  ;  "  but  his  fierce  spirit  overbore  the 
fainting  body  that  carried  it.  He  armed  a  river 
steamer  with  a  howitzer  and  a  party  of  volunteer 
riflemen,  and  employed  it  as  a  river  patrol.  He 
launched  the  fierce  Sikhs — by  this  time  heartily 
loyal— on  the  villages. 

They  were  wild  soldiers,  gaunt,  sinewy,  and  eager 
— the  "  Singh  log  "  ("  the  lion  people  "),  as  they 
called  themselves.  Maude  has  left  a  graphic  pic- 
ture of  the  Sikhs  who,  at  Allahabad,  followed 
Brasyer  as,  with  his  flowing  white  beard,  he  led 
them  in  pursuit  of  the  broken  Sepoys,  or  hung 
with  soldierly  obedience  on  Neill's  stern  orders. 
"  When  no  fighting  was  on  hand,"  he  says,  "  squads 
of  the  tall,  upright,  Hebraic- visaged  Sikhs  used  to 
march  into  their  commanding  officer's  tent,  where 
they  stood  at  attention,  in  silence,  with  one  hand 
raised  at  the  orthodox  salute.  '  What  do  you  want, 
my  men  ? '  was  the  question  in  Hindustani.  '  May 
it  please  the  protector  of  the  poor,  we  want  two 
days'  leave.'  'What  for?'  'To  get  drunk.  Sahib!' 
And  their  request,  being  considered  reasonable,  was 
usually  granted  ! " 

Neill,  by  the  way,  had  to  use  these  by  no  means 


STAMPING    OUT   MUTINY  jy 

ascetic  Sikhs  to  keep  his  own  "  blue-caps "  sober. 
The  stocks  of  all  the  merchants  in  the  city  were 
practically  without  owners,  and  the  finest  cham- 
pagnes and  brandies  were  selling  at  6d.  per  bottle. 
For  a  day  or  two  it  seemed  probable  that  Neill's 
little  force  would  be  swept  out  of  existence  in 
a  mere  ignoble  torrent  of  drunkenness.  Neill 
threatened  the  whip  and  the  bullet  in  vain ;  and 
finally  marched  up  the  Sikhs  and  took  peremptory 
possession  of  all  intoxicating  drinks. 

On  June  i8  the  fighting  was  over,  the  British 
were  masters  both  of  fort  and  city,  where,  fourteen 
days  before,  they  had  been  little  better  than  prisoners 
or  fugitives.  Then  was  repeated,  in  yet  sterner 
fashion,  the  retribution  which  had  struck  terror 
through  Benares.  The  gallows  in  Allahabad  groaned 
under  its  heavy  and  quick-following  burdens.  In 
his  diary  Neill  wrote :  "  God  grant  that  I  may  have 
acted  with  justice.  I  know  I  have  with  severity,  but, 
under  all  the  circumstances,  I  trust  for  forgiveness. 
I  have  done  all  for  the  good  of  my  country,  to  re- 
establish its  prestige  and  power,  and  to  put  down 
this  most  barbarous  and  inhuman  insurrection." 
Then  he  recites  cases  of  outrage  and  mutilation  on 
English  ladies  and  on  little  children,  with  details 
that  still  chill  the  natural  blood  with  horror  to 
read. 

.  The  Sepoys,  it  is  to  be  noted,  when  the  fighting 
was  over,  took  their  penalty  with  a  sort  of  com- 


78     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

posed  fatalism,  to  the  Western  imagination  very 
amazing.  Sir  George  Campbell  tells  the  story  of 
the  execution  of  an  old  native  officer,  a  subhadar, 
which  he  witnessed.  "  He  was  very  cool  and  quiet, 
and  submitted  to  be  executed  without  remonstrance. 
But  the  rope  broke,  and  he  came  down  to  the  ground. 
He  picked  himself  up,  and  it  was  rather  a  painful 
scene  for  the  spectators.  But  he  seemed  to  feel 
for  their  embarrassment,  and  thought  it  well  to 
break  the  awkwardness  of  the  situation  by  con- 
versation, remarking  that  it  was  a  very  bad  rope, 
and  talking  of  little  matters  of  that  kind  till  another 
rope  was  procured,  which  made  an  end  of  him  ! " 

It  would  be  easy  to  write,  or  sing,  a  new  and  more 
wonderful  Odyssey  made  up  of  the  valiant  combats, 
the  wild  adventures,  and  the  distressful  wanderings 
of  little  groups  of  Englishmen  and  Englishwomen, 
upon  whom  the  tempest  of  the  Mutiny  broke. 

Forbes-Mitchell,  for  example,  tells  the  story  of 
Robert  Tucker,  the  judge  at  Futtehpore.  Tucker 
was  a  great  hunter,  and  also,  like  many  Indian 
officials,  an  earnestly  religious  man,  with  an  antique 
sense  of  duty.  When  the  Mutiny  broke  out  he 
despatched  every  European  to  Allahabad,  but  re- 
fused to  move  himself  This  solitary  Englishman, 
in  a  word,  was  determined  to  defend  Futtehpore 
against  all  comers  !  Believing  the  native  officer  in 
charge  of  the  police  to  be  loyal,  he  sent  a  message 
to  him  asking  him  to  come  and  make  arrangements 


STAMPING   OUT    MUTINY  79 

for  the  protection  of  the  Treasury.  This  "  loyal  " 
official  sent  back  word  that  the  judge  Sahib  need 
not  trouble  himself  about  the  Treasury ;  that,  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening,  he,  with  his  "  loyal "  police, 
would  come  down  and  dismiss  the  dog  of  a  judge 
himself  to  Hades  ! 

Tucker  had  a  hunter's  armoury — rifles,  smooth- 
bores, and  hog  spears.  He  loaded  every  barrel,  bar- 
ricaded every  door  and  window,  and  waited  quietly, 
reading  his  Bible,  till,  when  the  cool  breath  of  even- 
ing began  to  stir,  he  saw  the  police  and  the  local 
budmashes,  with  the  green  banner  of  Islam  fluttering 
over  their  heads,  marching  down  to  attack  him. 
Tucker  was  offered  his  life  on  condition  that  he 
abandoned  his  Christianity.  Then  the  fight  broke 
out.  For  hours  the  musketry  crackled,  and  was 
answered  by  the  sharp  note  of  Tucker's  rifle.  Before 
midnight  the  brave  judge  lay,  riddled  with  bullets 
and  pierced  with  many  spear- thrusts,  dead  on  his 
own  floor.  But  all  round  his  house  were  strewn  the 
bodies  of  those  who  had  fallen  before  his  cool  and 
deadly  aim. 

Later  on,  at  Kotah,  a  similar  tragedy  took  place, 
the  story  of  which  is  told  by  George  Lawrence. 
Major  Burton,  the  Kesident  at  Kotah,  with  his  two 
sons — one  aged  tAventy-one,  the  other  a  lad  of  six- 
teen— and  a  single  native  servant,  held  the  Residency 
for  four  hours  against  native  troops  w^ith  artillery, 
and  a  huge  crowd  of  rioters.     The  Residency  w^as  at 


8o  THE   TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

last  set  on  fire,  and  Major  Burton  proposed  to 
surrender  on  condition  that  the  lives  of  his  sons 
were  spared.  The  gallant  lads  indignantly  refused 
to  accept  the  terms.  They  would  all  die  together, 
they  declared.  They  were  holding  the  roof  of  the 
Residency  against  their  assailants,  and,  as  Lawrence 
tells  the  story,  "they  knelt  down  and  prayed  for 
the  last  time,  and  then  calmly  and  heroically  met 
their  fate."  The  mob  by  this  time  had  obtained 
scaling-ladders.  They  swept  over  the  roof,  and  slew 
the  gallant  three.  Major  Burton's  head  was  cut  off, 
paraded  round  the  town,  and  then  fired  from  a  gun. 

One  of  the  most  surprising  of  these  personal 
adventures  was  that  which  overtook  the  Deputy 
Commissioner  of  Delhi,  Sir  T.  Metcalfe.  Wilber- 
force,  in  his  "  Unrecorded  Chapter  of  the  Indian 
Mutiny,"  tells  the  tale,  and  says  he  heard  it  twice 
over  from  Sir  T.  Metcalfe's  own  lips  —  though 
Wilberforce's  stories  sometimes  are  vehemently  sus- 
pected to  belong  to  the  realm  of  fiction  rather  than 
of  sober  history.  His  account  of  Metcalfe's  adven- 
ture, however,  is  at  least  hen  trovato. 

Metcalfe  escaped  from  Delhi  on  horseback,  hotly 
pursued  by  some  native  cavalry.  His  horse  broke 
down,  and  in  despair  Metcalfe  appealed  to  a  friendly- 
looking  native  to  conceal  him  from  his  pursuers. 
The  man  led  him  to  a  cave,  told  him  he  would 
save  him  if  possible,  and,  striking  his  horse  on  the 
flank,  sent  it  galloping  down  the  road,  while  Met- 


STAMPING    OUT    MUTINY  8 1 

calfe  crept  througli  the  black  throat  of  the  cave 
into  concealment.  Presently  Metcalfe  heard  his 
pursuers  ride  up,  fiercely  question  his  protector,  and 
finally  propose  to  search  the  cave. 

On  this  my  friend  burst  out  laughing,  and,  raising  his 
voice  so  that  I  must  hear,  he  said,  "  Oh  yes,  search  the 
cave.  Do  search  it.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  you  will  find. 
You  w^ill  find  a  great  red  devil  in  there ;  he  lives  up  at 
the  end  of  the  cave.  You  won't  be  able  to  see  him,  because 
the  cave  turns  at  the  end,  and  the  devil  always  stands 
just  round  the  turn,  and  he  has  got  a  great  long  knife 
in  his  hand,  and  the  moment  your  head  appears  round  the 
corner  he  will  slice  it  off,  and  then  he  will  pull  the  body 
in  to  him  and  eat  it.  Go  in ;  do  go  in — the  poor  devil  is 
hungry.  It  is  three  weeks  since  he  had  anything  to  eat, 
and  then  it  was  only  a  goat.  He  loves  men,  does  this  red 
devil ;  and  if  you  all  go  in  he  will  have  such  a  meal !  " 

Metcalfe  guessed  that  he  was  intended  to  hear  this 
speech  and  act  upon  it.  The  cave,  a  short  distance 
from  the  entrance,  turned  at  right  angles.  He  stood 
with  his  sword  uplifted  just  round  the  corner,  while 
a  line  of  dismounted  cavalry,  in  single  file,  one 
daring  fellow  leading,  came  slowly  up  the  cave.  As 
soon  as  the  leader  put  his  head  in  the  darkness 
round  the  corner,  Metcalfe  smote  with  all  his 
strength.  The  fellow's  head  rolled  from  his  body, 
and  his  companions,  with  a  yell  of  terror,  and  tum- 
bling one  over  another  in  the  darkness,  fled.  "  Did 
you  see  him  ? "  demanded  Metcalfe's  friend  outside. 

F 


82     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

"Do  go  back;  lie  wants  more  than  one."  But  the 
rebel  cavalry  had  had  enough.  The  men  who  had 
gone  up  the  cave  declared  that  they  had  actually 
seen  the  red  fiend,  and  been  scorched  by  the  gleam 
of  his  eyes  ;  and,  mounting  their  horses,  they  fled. 

"  Why  did  you  save  my  life  ? "  Metcalfe  asked  his 
protector.  "  Because  you  are  a  just  man,"  was  the 
reply.  "  How  do  you  know  that  ? "  asked  Metcalfe. 
"  You  decided  a  case  against  me  in  your  court,"  was 
the  unexpected  reply.  "I  and  all  my  family  had 
won  the  case  in  the  inferior  courts  by  lying,  but  you 
found  us  out,  and  gave  judgment  against  us.  If  you 
had  ^iven  the  case  for  me  I  would  not  have  saved 
your  life ! " 

Wilberforce  tells  another  tale  which  graphically 
illustrates  the  wild  adventures  of  those  wild  days. 
Early  one  morning  he  was  on  picket  duty  outside 
Delhi,  and  in  the  grey  dawn  saw  two  men  and  a  boy 
hurrying  along  the  road  from  the  city.  They  were 
evidently  fugitives,  and,  telling  his  men  not  to  fire 
on  them,  Wilberforce  went  forward  to  meet  them. 
When  the  group  came  up  the  boy  ran  forward,  threw 
his  arms  round  Wilberforce's  neck,  and,  with  an  ex- 
clamation in  English,  kissed  him.  The  "boy"  was 
a  woman  named  Mrs.  Leeson,  the  sole  survivor  of  the 
Delhi  massacre.  She  had  been  concealed  for  more 
than  three  months  by  a  friendly  native,  and  had  at 
last  escaped  disguised  as  an  Afghan  boy. 

When  the  Mutiny  broke  out  she,  with  some  other 


STAMPING    OUT    MUTINY  83 

ladies  and  a  few  Englishmen,  took  refuge  in  a  cellar, 
and  for  nearly  three  days  maintained  a  desperate 
defence  against  the  crowds  attacking  them.  The 
hero  of  the  defence  was  a  Baptist  missionary,  a 
former  shipmate  of  Wilberforce's,  "  a  very  tall  and 
powerful  man,  with  a  bloodless  face,  grey  eyes,  a 
broad  jaw,  and  a  determined  mouth."  One  by  one 
the  men  holding  the  cellar  fell.  Food  failed,  the 
ammunition  was  exhausted,  and  at  last,  behind  the 
bodies  of  the  fallen,  piled  up  as  a  breastwork,  stood 
only  the  brave  missionary,  with  nothing  but  his 
sword  to  protect  the  crouching  women  and  children. 
"  Stripped  to  the  waist,  behind  the  ghastly  rampart 
of  the  dead,  the  hero  stood;  and  for  hours  this 
Horatius  held  his  own.  At  last  he  fell,  shot  throuo-h 
the  heart,  and  the  bloodthirsty  devils  poured  in." 
Mrs.  Leeson  was  covered  by  some  of  the  dead  bodies, 
and  so  escaped  the  doom  of  the  other  ladies,  and  at 
night  crept  out  of  that  pit  of  the  dead.  She  wan- 
dered through  the  dark  streets,  the  only  living 
Englishwoman  in  the  great  city,  and  saw,  hanging 
up  on  the  trees  in  the  dusk,  the  headless  trunks  of 
white  children  and  the  mutilated  bodies  of  English- 
women. By  happy  chance  she  met  a  pit3'ing  native, 
who  concealed  her  until  she  escaped  in  the  fashion 
described,  with  more  or  less  of  imagination,  by 
Wilberforce. 


CHAPTER  IV 

CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE 

The  annals  of  warfare  contain  no  episode  so  painful  as 
the  story  of  this  siege.  It  moves  to  tears  as  surely  as  the 
pages  in  which  the  greatest  of  all  historians  tells,  as  only 
he  can  tell,  the  last  agony  of  the  Athenian  host  in  Sicily. 
The  sun  never  before  looked  on  such  a  sight  as  a  crowd  of 
women  and  children  cooped  within  a  small  space,  and  ex- 
posed, during  twenty  days  and  nights,  to  the  concentrated 
fire  of  thousands  of  muskets  and  a  score  of  heavy  cannon. 

IN"  these  words  Sir  George  Trevelyan  sums  up  the 
famous  struggle  round  the  low  mud-walls  of 
Wheeler's  entrenchments  at  Cawnpore  more  than 
forty  years  ago ;  a  struggle  in  ■which  Saxon  courage 
and  Hindu  cruelty  Avere  exhibited  in  their  highest 
measure,  and  which  must  always  form  one  of  the 
most  heartbreaking  and  yet  kindling  traditions  of 
the  British  race.  Volumes  have  been  written  about 
Cawnpore,  but  Trevelyan's  book  remains  its  one 
adequate  literary  record.  The  writer  has  a  faculty 
for  resonant,  not  to  say  rhythmic  prose,  which  recalls 
the  style  of  his  more  famous  uncle,  Macaulay,  and 

in   his   '■  Cawnpore "   his   picturesque   sentences   are 

84 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  8  5 

flushed  with  a  sympathy  which  gives  them  a  more 
than  Hterary  grace. 

Cawnpore  at  the  time  of  the  Mutiny  was  a  great 
city,  famous  for  its  workers  in  leather,  standing  on 
the  banks  of  the  sacred  Ganges,  270  miles  S.E.  from 
Delhi,  and  about  700  miles  from  Calcutta.  It  was  a 
military  station  of  great  importance.  Its  vast  maga- 
zine was  stored  with  warlike  material  of  every  sort. 
It  was  the  seat  of  civil  administration  for  a  rich 
district.  But  the  characteristic  British  policy,  which 
allows  the  Empire  to  expand  indefinitely,  without  any 
corresponding  expansion  of  the  army  which  acts  as 
its  police  and  defence,  left  this  great  military  station 
practically  in  the  hands  of  the  Sepoys  alone.  The 
British  force  at  Cawnpore,  in  May  1857,  consisted  of 
sixty  men  of  the  84th,  sixty-five  Madras  Fusileers, 
fewer  than  sixty  artillerymen,  and  a  group  of  invalids 
belonging  to  the  32nd.  The  Sepoy  force  consisted  of 
three  strong  infantry  regiments  and  the  2nd  Native 
Cavalry — a  regiment  of  very  evil  fame. 

Here,  then,  were  all  the  elements  of  a  great  tragedy 
— a  rich  treasury  and  a  huge  arsenal,  lying  practically 
undefended;  a  strong  force  of  Sepoys,  bitter  with 
mutiny ;  a  turbulent  city  and  crowded  cantonments 
festering  with  crime ;  and  only  a  handful  of  British 
soldiers  to  maintain  the  British  flaq- !  Had  the  British 
consisted  merely  of  fighting  men,  though  they  counted 
only  300  bayonets  against  four  regiments  of  splendidly 
trained  Sepoys,  and  a  hostile  population  of  60,000, 


86     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

their  case  would  not  have  been  desperate.  But  the 
little  British  garrison  had  under  its  guard  a  great 
company  of  women  and  children  and  sick  folk — 
civilian  households,  the  wives  and  families  of  the 
32nd,  and  many  more.  For  every  fighting  man  who 
levelled  his  musket  over  Wheeler's  entrenchments 
during  the  siege,  there  were  at  least  two  non-com- 
batants— women,  or  little  children,  or  invalids.  A 
company  so  helpless  and  so  great  could  not  march ; 
it  could  not  attack ;  it  could  only  stand  within  its 
poor  screen  of  mud-walls  and,  with  the  stubborn  and 
quenchless  courage  natural  to  its  blood,  fight  till  it 
perished. 

General  Sir  Hugh  Wheeler,  who  was  in  command 
at  Cawnpore,  was  a  gallant  soldier,  who  had  marched 
and  fought  for  fifty  years.  But  he  had  the  fatal  defect 
of  being  over  seventy-five  years  of  age.  A  little  man, 
slender  of  build,  with  quick  eye  and  erect  figure,  he 
carried  his  seventy-five  years  with  respectable  energy. 
But  a  man,  no  matter  how  brave,  in  whose  veins  ran  the 
chill  and  thin  blood  of  old  age,  was  tragically  handi- 
capped in  a  crisis  so  fierce.  Wheeler,  moreover,  who 
had  married  a  Hindu  wife,  was  too  weakly  credulous 
about  the  loyalty  of  his  Sepoys.  On  May  1 8,  scarcely 
a  fortnight  before  the  Mutiny,  he  telegraphed  to 
Calcutta :  "  The  plague  is  stayed.  All  well  at 
Cawnpore!"  He  had  been  warned  that  Nana  Sahib 
was  treacherous,  yet  he  called  in  his  help,  and  put 
the   Treasury  in   his   charge   for  safety  !     This  was 


gBurra  Jooi 

CAWNPORE 

June  1857. 

U      Vz  I  Mile 


Bhugai 


OPEN   FIRE. 
7TH.  JUNE  \ 


,/    3  MORTARS 


^sP^^^^v        '^^    '...-/^BRITISH     %  ^<^  ^/ 

°V't^^o^^?^^*^■'^--"       //OFFICERS    '-^ 


General  Wheeler's  "^o 
Entrenchment 
June  4th.- 27th.  1857 


^UNOCCUPIED 


/-        />  BRITISH    \ 

iS-/ /officers  \ 


Walker  &  Cockcrell  sc. 


88     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GKEAT  MUTINY 

committing  the  ciiickens,  for  security,  to  the  bene- 
volence and  "  good  faith  "  of  the  fox !  Not  four  days 
before  the  outbreak  Wlieeler  actually  sent  back  to 
Lucknow  fifty  men  of  the  84th  who  had  been  sent  to 
him  as  a  reinforcement.  There  was  chivalry  in  that 
act,  but  there  was  besotted  credulity  too. 

But  Wheeler's  most  fatal  mistake  was  in  the  choice 
he  made  of  the  place  where  the  British  garrison  was 
to  make  its  last  stand.  The  Cawnpore  magazine 
itself  was  a  vast  walled  enclosure,  covering  three 
acres,  with  strong  buildings  and  exhaustless  store 
of  guns  and  ammunition,  Avith  the  river  guarding 
one  front,  and  a  nullah  acting  as  a  ditch  on  another. 
Here  would  have  been  shelter  for  the  women  and  the 
sick,  a  magnificent  fighting  position  for  the  men, 
abundant  water,  and  a  great  store  of  cannon. 

Wheeler,  for  reasons  which  nobody  has  ever  yet 
guessed,  neglected  this  strong  post.  He  allowed  its 
stores  of  cannon  to  be  turned  against  himself.  He 
chose,  instead  of  this  formidable  and  sheltered  post, 
a  patch  of  open  plain  six  miles  distant,  with  practi- 
cally no  water  supply.  He  threw  up  a  slender  wall 
of  earth,  which  a  musket-bah  could  pierce,  and  over 
which  an  active  cow  could  jump,  and  he  crowded 
into  this  the  whole  British  colony  at  Cawnpore. 

"  What  do  you  call  that  place  you  are  making  out 
on  the  plain  ? "  asked  the  Nana's  Prime  Minister, 
Azimoolah,  of  a  British  officer.  "  You  ought  to  call 
it  the  'Fort  of  Despair.'"     "No,  no,"  answered  the 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  89 

Englishman,  with  the  pluck  of  his  race,  "we'll  call 
it  the  '  Fort  of  Victory ! ' "  Nevertheless,  when 
Wheeler  made  that  evil  choice  of  a  place  of  defence, 
he  was  constructing  a  veritable  Fort  of  Despair. 

Wheeler,  it  seems,  did  not  occupy  the  magazine, 
as  it  was  held  by  a  Sepoy  guard,  and  it  would  have 
"shown  mistrust,"  and  might  have  precipitated  a 
conflict,  if  he  had  attempted  to  move  into  it.  But 
what  more  expressive  and  public  sign  of  "  mistrust " 
could  be  imagined  than  the  construction  of  the  en- 
trenchment in  the  open  plain  ?  And  what  could 
more  fatally  damage  British  prestige  than  the  spec- 
tacle of  the  entire  British  community,  military  and 
civilian,  crowding  into  these  worthless  defences ! 

If  Wheeler  did  not  occupy  the  magazine,  he  might 
have  blown  it  up,  and  with  that  act  have  turned  to 
smoke  all  the  resources  of  the  rebels.  This  was  left 
to  be  done  by  Sepoy  hands  six  weeks  later.  Mean- 
while, Wheeler  left  almost  unlimited  resources  of 
guns  and  munitions  of  war  in  the  hands  of  the 
mutineers — to  be  employed  against  himself! 

In  the  grim  pause,  while  waiting  for  the  out- 
break, the  British  garrison  showed  a  cool  and  gallant 
patience.  The  women,  children,  and  civilians  took 
up  their  quarters  every  night  within  the  earthworks, 
where  some  ten  light  guns  were  mounted.  But  to 
"show  their  confidence"  in  their  men,  and,  if  possible, 
still  to  hold  them  back  from  mutiny,  the  British 
officers  slept  with  their  regiments.      To  lead  a  for- 


90     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

lorn  hope  up  the  broken  slope  of  a  breach,  or  to 
stand  in  an  infantry  square  while,  with  thunder  of 
galloping  hoofs,  a  dozen  squadrons  of  cavalry  charge 
fiercely  down,  needs  courage.  But  it  was  a  finer 
strain  of  courage  still  which  made  a  British  officer 
leave  his  wife  and  children  to  sleep  behind  the  guns, 
standing  loaded  with  grape,  to  protect  them  from  a 
rush  of  mutineers,  while  he  himself  walked  calmly 
down  to  sleep — or,  at  least,  to  feign  sleep — within 
the  very  lines  of  the  mutineers  themselves  ! 

On  the  night  of  June  4  came  the  outbreak.  The 
men  of  the  2nd  Cavalry  rushed  to  their  stables, 
mounted,  and,  with  mad  shouts  and  wild  firing  of 
pistols,  galloped  off  to  seize  the  magazine  and  to 
"loot"  the  Treasury;  and  as  they  went  they  burnt 
and  plundered  and  slew.  The  ist  Sepoys  followed 
them  at  once ;  the  other  two  Sepoy  regiments — the 
53rd  and  56th — hesitated.  Their  officers,  with  en- 
treaties and  orders,  kept  them  steady  till  the  sun 
rose,  and  then,  unfortunately,  dismissed  them  to 
their  tents.  Here  they  were  quickly  corrupted  by 
their  comrades,  who  had  returned  laden  with  booty 
from  the  plundered  Treasury. 

But  before  they  had  actually  broken  into  mutiny, 
while  they  were  yet  swaying  to  and  fro  in  agitated 
groups,  by  some  blunder  a  gun  from  Wheeler's 
entrenchments  opened  on  the  Sepoys'  lines.  The 
argument  of  the  flying  grape  was  final !  The  men 
broke,  and — a  tumultuous  mob — made  for  the  city. 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  9 1 

Even  then,  however,  some  eighty  Sepoys  kept  their 
fidehty,  and  actually  joined  the  British  within  their 
defences,  and  fought  bravely  side  by  side  with  them 
for  nearly  twenty  desperate  days. 

For  a  few  wild  hours  murder  raged  through  the 
streets  of  CaAvnpore.  Then  the  mutineers  turned 
their  faces  towards  Delhi.  Had  no  malim  influence 
arrested  their  march  the  great  tragedy  might  have 
been  escaped,  and  the  word  "Cawnpore"  would  not 
be  to-day  the  most  tragical  cluster  of  syllables  in 
British  history.  But  at  this  point  the  subtle  and  evil 
genius  of  Nana  Sahib  interposed  with  dhe  effect. 

Nana  Sahib — or,  to  give  his  proper  name,  Seereek 
Dhoondoo  Punth — was  a  Hindu  of  low  birth,  who 
had  been  adopted  by  the  Peishwa  of  Poonah,  the 
last  representative  of  a  great  Mahratta  dynasty,  a 
prince  who  had  been  dethroned,  but  assigned  a  royal 
pension  by  the  East  India  Company.  Nana  Sahib^ 
on  the  Peishwa's  death,  inherited  his  private  fortune, 
a  sum  computed  at  ^^4,000,000  sterling ;  but  he  also 
claimed  the  great  pension  which  the  Peishwa  en- 
joyed. The  Company  rejected  that  claim,  and  hence- 
forth Nana  Sahib  was  a  man  comsumed  with  hate 
of  the  British  name  and  power.  He  concealed  that 
hate,  however,  beneath  a  smiling  mask  of  courteous 
hospitality.  His  agent  had  seen  the  wasted  British 
lines  round  Sebastopol,  and  reported  to  his  master 
that  the  British  strength  was  broken.  Nana  Sahib, 
too,  who  understood  the  Hindu  character,  saw  that 


92     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

tlie  Sepoy  regiments  in  Bengal  were  drunk  with 
arrogance,  and  inflamed  to  the  verge  of  mere  hmacy, 
with  fanatical  suspicions,  while  a  British  garrison 
was  almost  non-existent. 

Here,  then,  were  the  elements  of  a  great  outbreak, 
and  Nana  Sahib  believed  that  the  British  raj  was 
about  to  perish.  He  threw  in  his  lot  with  the  muti- 
neers, but  he  had  no  idea  of  following  them  to  Delhi, 
and  being  merged  in  the  crowd  that  plotted  and 
wrangled  in  the  royal  palace  there.  He  would  build 
up  a  great  power  for  himself  round  Cawnpore,  He 
might  make  himself,  he  dreamed,  the  despot  of 
Northern  India.  He  might  even,  by-and-by,  march 
as  a  conqueror  down  the  valley  of  the  Ganges,  fight 
a  new  Plassey,  very  diflerent  from  the  last,  and,  to 
quote  Trevelyan,  "  renew  the  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta, 
under  happier  auspices  and  on  a  more  generous 
scale,  and  so  teach  those  Christian  dogs  what  it  was 
to  flout  a  Mahratta ! " 

But,  as  a  preliminary  to  all  this,  the  great  company 
of  Christian  peoj)le  within  Wheeler's  lines  must  be 
stamped  out  of  existence.  "  The  wolves,  with  their 
mates  and  whelps,  had  been  hounded  into  their  den, 
and  now  or  never  was  the  time  to  smoke  them  out 
and  knock  on  the  head  the  whole  of  that  formidable 
brood."  So,  with  bribes,  and  promises,  and  threats, 
Nana  brought  back  the  Sepoys,  who  had  begun  their 
Delhi  march,  to  Cawnpore. 

On  June  6,  with  an  odd  touch  of  oflicial  formality, 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  93 

Nana  sent  in  notice  to  General  Wheeler  that  he  was 
about  to  attack  his  position.  Sunday,  June  7,  was 
spent  in  hunting  from  their  various  places  of  conceal- 
ment in  Cawnpore  all  the  unhappy  Europeans  who 
lingered  there.  One  trembling  family  was  discovered 
lurking  under  a  bridge,  another  concealed  in  some 
native  huts.  They  were  dragged  out  with  shouts  of 
triumph  and  despatched.  One  Englishman,  who  had 
taken  refuge  in  a  native  house,  held  it  against  the 
Sepoys  till  his  last  cartridge  was  expended,  then 
walked  out  and  bade  them  cut  his  throat — a  request 
promptly  complied  with.  When  the  safe  and  de- 
lightful luxury  of  hunting  out  solitary  Europeans 
was  exhausted,  then  began  the  attack  on  the  British 
entrenchments. 

The  odds  were  tremendous !  In  the  centre  of 
Wheeler's  entrenchment  stood  two  single-storeyed 
barracks,  built  of  thin  brickwork,  with  verandas,  and 
one  of  them  roofed  with  straw.  The  mud  wall,  Avhich 
formed  the  defence  of  the  position,  was  four  feet  high, 
so  thin  that  a  rifle-ball  could  pierce  it,  with  rough 
gaps  made  for  the  ten  light  pieces  which  formed  the 
artillery  of  the  garrison.  On  the  north  side  of  the 
entrenchment  was  a  little  triangular  outwork,  which 
the  British  called  the  Redan.  On  its  left  front,  some 
four  hundred  yards  distant,  Avas  a  row  of  unfinished 
barracks,  part  of  which  was  held  by  the  British,  part 
by  the  Sepoys,  and  which  became  the  scene  of  the 
most   bloody  fighting   of  the   siege.     Behind   these 


94     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GBEAT  MUTINY 

slender  bulwarks  was  gathered  a  company  of  perhaps 
a  thousand  souls,  of  whom  more  than  half  were 
women  and  children. 

At  first  the  barracks  gave  to  the  non-combatants  a 
brief  shelter;  but  the  24-pounders  of  the  Sepoys 
pierced  them  as  though  they  had  been  built  of 
cheese,  and  before  many  hours  they  were  shattered 
into  wreck,  and  the  besieged  were  practically  without 
any  shelter,  not  merely  from  the  rain  of  lead,  but 
from  the  consuming  heat  of  Indian  suns  and  the 
heavy  dews  of  Indian  nights. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  the  men  dug  holes  in  the  earth, 
into  which  their  wives  and  children  might  creep  and 
be  sheltered  by  a  few  planks  from  the  intolerable 
glare  of  the  sun,  and  the  incessant  flight  of  hostile 
bullets.  Quite  as  commonly,  however,  a  British 
officer  or  civilian,  as  he  crouched  behind  the  poor 
wall  of  earth,  loaded  musket  in  hand,  saw  the  white 
faces  of  his  children  as  they  slept  or  moaned,  in  the 
ditch  by  his  side,  while  the  wasted  figure  of  his  wife 
bent  over  them.  There  was  no  privacy,  or  shelter,  or 
rest.  The  supply  of  food  quickly  failed.  There  was 
not  water  enough  to  satisfy  the  little  children  who 
cried  from  thirst,  or  to  bathe  the  shattered  limbs  of 
the  wounded.  The  men  had  the  fierce  excitement  of 
fighting  ;  but  who  shall  paint  the  anguish  of  English 
ladies — wives  and  mothers — who  could  not  find 
water  for  their  children's  fevered  lips,  or  shelter  them 
from  sun  and  bullet. 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  95 

The  imagination  lingers  pitifully  over  those  groups 
of  British  ladies  sitting  or  crouching  in  the  ditches 
under  the  earthworks :  "  Unshod,  unkempt,  ragged 
and  squalid,  haggard  and  emaciated,  parched  with 
drought  and  faint  with  hunger,  they  sat  waiting  to 
hear  that  they  were  widows.  Woe  was  it  in  those 
days  unto  them  that  were  with  child.  There  were 
infants  born  during  the  terrible  three  weeks — infants 
with  no  future." 

There  were  two  wells  in  the  encampment ;  one 
which,  to  quote  Trevelyan,  ''yielded  nothing  then, 
which  will  yield  nothing  till  the  sea,  too,  gives  up 
her  dead."  It  was  some  two  hundred  yards  from  the 
rampart,  and  lay  open  to  the  fire  of  the  Sepoys' 
batteries.  It  was  turned  into  a  sepulchre.  Thither, 
night  by  night,  the  besieged  carried  their  dead,  and 
cast  them  into  its  depths  Avith  brief  and  whispered 
prayer ;  while  the  guns  of  the  Sepoys  thundered 
their  requiem.  Within  three  weeks  250  English  people 
were  cast  by  English  hands  into  that  strange  grave. 
The  other  well  lay  also  directly  under  hostile  fire, 
and  on  it  the  Sepoy  gunners,  trained  by  British 
science,  concentrated  their  fire  night  and  day.  Every 
drop  of  water  drawn  from  it  may  be  said  to  have 
been  reddened  with  blood. 

Over  this  handful  of  British  people,  faint  with 
hunger,  fevered  with  thirst,  wasted  by  sickness,  half 
mad  with  the  sun's  heat,  roared  day  and  night  a 
tempest  of  hostile  shot.     Never  before,  perhaps,  was 


g6  THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

such  a  fire  concentrated  on  one  poor  patch  of  soil. 
The  Sepoys  could  mount  as  many  guns  as  they 
chose,  and  almost  of  whatever  calibre  they  pleased. 
And  they  could  fire,  within  a  distance  ranging  from 
300  to  800  yards,  from  under  almost  shot-proof 
shelter.  From  roof  and  window  of  all  the  build- 
ings commanding  the  entrenchments  streamed,  with 
scarcely  a  moment's  pause,  showers  of  nmsketry 
bullets.  At  night  the  Sepoys  crept  within  pistol- 
shot,  and  fired  without  cessation.  Wheeler's  entrench- 
ments were  literally  girdled  with  fire ;  they  were 
whipped,  day  and  night,  with  incessant  volleys. 

By  the  third  day  every  window  and  door  in  the 
poor  barracks  which  served  as  shelter  to  the  sick, 
and  to  the  women  and  children,  had  been  beaten  in ; 
and  shell  and  ball  ranged  at  will  through  the  rooms. 
One  who  saw  the  building  after  the  siege  wrote: 
"The  walls  are  riddled  with  cannon-shot  like  the 
cells  of  a  honeycomb.  The  doors  are  knocked  into 
shapeless  openings.  Of  the  verandas  only  a  few 
splintered  rafters  remain.  At  some  of  the  angles  the 
walls  are  knocked  entirely  away,  and  large  chasms 
gape  blackly  at  you." 

Never  was  a  position  more  desperate;  and  never 
was  there  one  held  with  a  valour  more  obstinate. 
Wheeler's  men  had  everything  that  was  most  dear  to 
them  at  their  backs,  and  everything  that  was  most 
hateful  in  their  front;  and  under  these  conditions 
how  they  fought  may  be  imagined.     In  the  scanty 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  97 

garrison,  too,  were  over  a  hundred  officers  of  the 
regiments  in  mutiny,  fighters  of  the  finest  quality. 
It  was  a  corps  cV elite ;  a  garrison  of  officers  ! 

Indian  life,  it  may  be  added,  develops  all  that  is 
proudest  and  most  manly  in  the  British  character. 
The  Englishman  there  feels  that  he  is  a  member  of 
an  imperial  and  conquering  race.  To  rule  men  is  his 
daily  business.  To  hunt  the  fiercest  game  in  the 
world  is  his  amusement.  The  men  who  knelt  be- 
hind Wheeler's  mud  walls,  had  faced  tigers  in  the 
jungle,  had  speared  the  wild  boar  in  the  plains,  had 
heard  the  scream  of  a  charging  elephant.  They  were 
steady  of  nerve,  quick  of  eye,  deadly  of  aim,  proud 
of  their  blood  and  race.  They  were  standing  at  bay 
over  their  wives  and  little  ones,  playing  a  game  in 
which  the  stake  was  a  thousand  British  lives.  And 
never  before,  or  since,  perhaps,  was  more  gallant 
fiofhtinof  done  than  behind  Wheeler's  entrenchments. 

The  natural  leaders  of  the  garrison  emerged  in 
such  a  crisis,  and  their  names  ought  to  awaken  to- 
day in  British  ears  emotions  of  pride  as  lofty  as  that 
which-  Greeks  knew  when,  in  the  rolling  and  sonorous 
cadences  of  Homer's  great  epic,  they  heard  the  names 
of  the  heroes  who  fought  and  died  round  classic 
Troy.  One  of  the  most  heroic  figures  in  the  siege 
is  that  of  Captain  Moore,  of  the  32nd,  in  charge  of 
the  cluster  of  invalids  belonging  to  that  regiment  in 
Cawnpore.     Moore   was   an   Irishman,  though   with 

the  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes  proper  to  Saxon  blood, 

G 


98     THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

To  say  that  he  was  fearless  is  a  very  inadequate 
description  of  his  temper.  He  delighted  in  the 
rapture  and  glow  of  battle.  His  courage  had  in  it 
a  certain  cool  and  smiling  quality  that  made  flurry 
or  anxiety  impossible.  Moore,  in  fact,  carried  about 
with  him  a  sort  of  radiance,  so  that,  as  Trevelyan 
puts  it,  "  wherever  he  had  passed  he  left  men  some- 
thing more  courageous,  and  women  something  less 
unhappy."  This  fair-haired  Irishman  was  a  born 
king  of  men,  of  unfailing  resource  and  "  dare-devil " 
courage.  He  was  wounded  early  in  the  siege,  and 
carried  his  arm  in  a  sling,  but  he  walked  to  and  fro 
calmly  amid  a  tempest  of  bullets,  and  the  men  would 
follow  his  cheerful  leading  against  any  odds. 

The  tiny  little  Redan  on  the  north  face  of  the 
entrenchment  was  held  by  Major  Yibart,  of  the  2nd 
Cavalry.  A  dreadful  cross-fire  searched  and  raked 
this  little  triangle  of  earth,  and  the  handful  of  heroes 
that  held  it  had  to  be  renewed  again  and  again.  But 
the  Redan  kept  up  its  splutter  of  answering  fire  day 
and  night  for  three  weeks,  and  Yibart  himself  sur- 
vived the  siege,  to  perish  under  Sepoy  bullets  on  the 
river.  Ashe  was  a  young  artillery  officer  of  great 
promise;  he  commanded  a  battery  of  three  guns 
at  the  north-east  corner  of  the  entrenchments,  and 
seldom  were  guns  better  aimed  and  better  fought. 
Ashe  had  first  to  invent  his  gunners,  and  next  to 
improvise  his  shot,  firing  6-pound  balls,  for  example, 
from  a  9-pound  muzzle.     But  his  cool  science  and 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  99 

sleepless  activity  made  his  battery  the  terror  of  the 
Sepoys. 

Delafosse,  of  the  53rd,  one  of  the  four  men  who 
actually  survived  the  siege,  was  an  officer  as  daring 
and  almost  as  skilled  as  Ashe.  He  had  charge  of 
three  9-pounder  guns  at  the  south-east  angle.  On 
one  occasion  the  carriage  of  a  gun  in  his  battery  took 
fire,  and  the  wood,  made  as  inflammable  as  tinder  by 
the  fierce  Indian  sun,  flamed  and  crackled.  There 
was  powder — and  the  peril  of  explosion — on  every 
side.  The  Sepoys,  noting  the  dancing  flame,  turned 
all  their  guns  on  the  spot.  Delafosse  crawled  beneath 
the  burning  carriage,  turned  on  his  back,  and  with 
his  naked  hands  pulled  doAvn  the  red  splinters,  and 
scattered  earth  on  the  flames,  fighting  them  in  this 
desperate  fashion  till  two  soldiers  ran  up  to  his  help, 
and  the  fire  was  put  out. 

Perhaps  the  most  obstinate  and  bloody  fighting 
during  the  siege  took  place  in  the  line  of  unfinished 
barracks  which  crossed  the  S.W.  angle  of  the  entrench- 
ments. The  Sepoys  held  the  northern  half  of  this 
line  of  buildings.  Of  the  three  buildings  to  the  south 
— which  completely  commanded  the  entrenchment — 
what  was  called  "No.  4,"  was  held  by  a  party  of 
amateur  soldiers — civil  engineers  employed  on  the 
East  Indian  railroads.  There  were  a  dozen  of  them, 
young  fellows  more  familiar  with  theodolites  than 
with  rifles ;  but  a  cluster  of  English  Lifeguards  could 
not  have  fought  with  cooler  bravery.     And  the  civil 


100   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

engineers  had  a  keenness  of  wit  and  a  fertility  of 
mechanical  resource  which  veteran  soldiers  might 
easily  have  lacked. 

Vainly  the  Sepoys  pelted  "  No.  4  "  with  24-pounder 
shot,  scourged  it  with  musketry  fire,  or  made  wild 
rushes  upon  it.  The  gallant  railway  men  devised 
new  barriers  for  the  doors,  and  new  shields  for  the 
windows,  and  shot  with  cool  and  deadly  aim,  before 
which  the  Sepoys  fell  like  rabbits.  "No.  4,"  like 
Hougoumont  at  Waterloo,  might  be  battered  into 
wreck,  but  could  not  be  captured.  In  the  Memorial 
Church  at  Cawnpore  to-day,  not  the  least  touching 
tablet  is  one  upon  which  is  inscribed : — 

To  the  memory  of  the  Engineers  of  the  East  India  Rail- 
way, who  died  and  were  killed  in  the  great  insurrection 
of  1857.  Erected  in  affectionate  remembrance  by  their 
brother  Engineers  in  the  North-Western  Provinces. 

Barrack  No.  2  was  a  microscopic  fortress,  as  fiercely 
attacked,  and  as  valiantly  defended  as  Barrack  No.  4. 
It  was  first  held  by  Lieutenant  Glanville  and  a 
party  of  fourteen  officers.  Glanville  was  desperately 
wounded,  and  three-fourths  of  his  heroic  garrison 
killed ;  then  the  barrack  was  put  in  charge  of  Mow- 
bray Thomson,  of  the  56th  Native  Infantry,  one  of 
the  two  officers  who  survived  Cawnpore.  Only  sixteen 
men  could  find  standing  and  fighting  room  in  the 
barrack.  The  sixteen  under  Mowbray  Thomson  con- 
sisted of  Ensign  Henderson,  a  mere  boy,  half-a-dozen 


CAWNPOKE  :    THE    SIEGE  I O I 

Madras  Fusileers,  two  plate-layers  from  the  railway 
works,  and  seven  men  of  the  84th.  As  the  garrison 
dwindled  under  the  ever-scorching  fire  that  played 
on  the  building,  it  was  fed  with  new  recruits.  "  Some- 
times," says  Mowbray  Thomson,  "a  civilian,  some- 
times a  soldier  came."  But  soldier  and  civilian  alike 
plied  his  rifle  with  a  grim  and  silent  courage  that 
never  grew  flurried,  and  that  never  knew  fear. 

Mowbray  Thomson,  who  was  of  an  ingenious  turn, 
contrived  a  perch  in  the  topmost  angle  of  the  barrack 
wall,  and  planted  there  an  officer  named  Stirling,  Avho 
was  at  an  age  when  other  lads  are  playing  at  cricket 
with  their  schoolmates,  but  who  was  a  quick  and 
most  deadly  shot,  and  who  "bagged"  Sepoys  as  a 
sportsman,  with  a  breech-loading  shot-gun,  might  bag 
pheasants  in  a  populous  cover.  Sometimes,  on  an 
agreed  signal,  the  garrisons  from  No.  2  and  No.  4 
would  dash  out  together,  a  little  knot  of  ragged, 
unwashed,  smoke-blackened  Sahibs,  counting  about 
thirty  in  all,  and  running  without  regular  order,  but 
with  that  expression  on  their  faces  which  the  Sepoys 
knew  meant  tragical  business ;  and,  with  musket  and 
bayonet  or  hog-spear,  they  would  sweep  the  line  of 
barracks  from  end  to  end. 

Nor  was  courage  confined  to  the  fighting  men.  In 
one  fierce  sally,  at  an  early  stage  of  the  siege,  eleven 
mutineers  were  captured.  A  desperate  fight  was 
raging  at  the  moment,  and  every  man  was  required 
at  the  front.     A  rope  was  hastily  passed  round  the 


102    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

wrists  of  the  eleven  captured  Sepoys,  and  they  were 
put  into  the  charge  of  the  wife  of  a  private  of  the 
32nd,  named  Bridget  Widdowson.  Drawn  sword  in 
hand,  this  soldier's  wife,  who  had  little  children  of 
her  own  in  the  beleaguered  entrenchments,  stood 
over  the  eleven  mutineers,  while  they  squatted  ner- 
vously on  their  hams  before  her ;  and  so  business-like 
was  the  flourish  of  her  weapon,  so  keen  the  sparkle 
in  her  eye,  that  not  one  man  of  the  eleven  dared  to 
move.  It  was  only  when  a  guard  of  the  stronger  sex 
took  Bridget's  place  that  the  eleven,  somehow,  con- 
trived to  escape.  Later  on  in  the  siege  the  supply  of 
cartridges  failed,  and  all  the  ladies  were  requisitioned 
for  their  stockings,  to  be  used  in  the  construction  of 
new  cartridges.  When  before,  or  since,  did  war  claim 
for  its  service  such  strange  material ! 

The  Sepoys,  at  intervals,  made  furious  assaults 
on  the  mud  walls,  but  these  were  lined  by  shots 
too  deadly,  and  held  by  hands  too  strong,  to  make 
success  possible.  Had  the  British,  indeed,  been  the 
attacking  force,  they  would  have  swept  over  the 
poor  earthen  barrier,  not  four  feet  high,  with  a 
single  charge,  before  the  siege  was  a  dozen  hours 
old.  But,  during  the  whole  three  weeks  of  their 
attack,  though  the  Sepoys,  counting  fighting  men, 
outnumbered  their  foes  by,  perhaps,  thirty  to  one, 
they  never  succeeded  in  even  reaching  the  irregular 
line  of  earth  behind  which  the  British  stood. 

Their  best  chance  occurred  when,  on  the  eighth 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  IO3 

night  of  the  bombardment,  the  thatch  on  the 
barrack  used  as  a  hospital,  took  fire.  The  whole 
building  was  quickly  in  flames,  and  in  their  red 
light  the  entrenchment,  in  every  part,  was  as 
visible  as  at  noonday.  The  barrack  was  used  as 
a  sleeping-place  for  the  women  and  children  of 
the  32nd.  These  fled  from  the  burning  building, 
but  not  all  the  sick  and  wounded  could  be  rescued ; 
some  perished  in  the  smoke  and  flame.  That  was, 
indeed,  a  night  of  horror.  "  The  roar  of  the  flames," 
says  Trevelyan,  "  lost  every  ten  seconds  in  the  peal 
of  the  rebel  artillery ;  the  whistle  of  the  great  shot ; 
the  shrieks  of  the  sufferers,  who  forgot  then*  pain  in 
the  helpless  anticipation  of  a  sudden  and  agonising 
death ;  the  group  of  crying  women  and  children 
huddled  together  in  the  ditch ;  the  stream  of  men 
running  to  and  fro  between  the  houses,  laden  with 
sacks  of  provisions,  and  kegs  of  ammunition,  and 
living  burdens  more  precious  still ;  the  guards 
crouching  silent  and  watchful,  finger  on  trigger, 
each  at  his  station  along  the  external  wall ;  the 
forms  of  countless  foes,  revealed  now  and  again  by 
the  fitful  glare,  prowling  around  through  the  outer 
gloom  " — all  this  made  up  a  strangely  terrible  scene. 
It  is  a  proof  of  the  quality  of  Moore's  daring  that,  by 
way  of  proving  to  the  Sepoys  that  this  calamity  had 
not  lowered  the  spirits  of  the  garrison,  he  organised 
on  the  following  night  a  sally,  and,  with  fifty  picked 
men,   dashed   out  on   the   rebel  lines,  swept   them 


I04    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

for  many  hundreds  of  yards,  spiked   a  number  of 
24-pounder  guns,  and  slew  their  gunners. 

But  the  burnino:  of  the  barracks  was  the  fatal 
turning-point  of  the  siege.  It  destroyed  the  last 
shelter  of  the  sick  and  the  women  and  children. 
The  whole  stock  of  medicines  and  of  surgical 
appliances  was  consumed,  and  the  wounded  could 
no  longer  have  their  injuries  dressed.  The  eighty 
odd  Sepoys  who  formed  part  of  the  garrison  had 
been  lodged  in  the  building  now  burned.  It  was 
deemed  imprudent  to  allow  them  to  mix  with  the 
garrison  generally,  and  they  were  told  to  provide 
for  themselves,  and  were  allowed  to  steal  out  of 
the  entrenchment  and  escape. 

The  deaths  amongst  the  British  multiplied  fast. 
The  fire  of  the  Sepoys  grew  more  furious.  "  The 
round  shot  crashed  and  spun  through  the  windows, 
raked  the  earthworks,  and  skipped  about  the  open 
ground  in  every  corner  of  our  position.  The  bullets 
cut  the  air,  and  pattered  on  the  wall  like  hail.  The 
great  shells  rolled  hissing  along  the  floors  and  down 
the  trenches,  and,  bursting,  spread  around  them 
a  circle  of  wreck  and  mutilation  and  promiscuous 
destruction." 

How  fast  the  poor  besieged  wretches  perished 
under  this  deadly  hail  may  be  imagined.  A  bomb, 
for  example,  fell  into  a  cluster  of  seven  ladies  and 
slew  them  all  in  a  breath.  A  soldier's  wife,  carrying  a 
twin  child  on  each  shoulder,  with  her  husband  by  her 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  I05 

side,  was  crossing  a  fire-raked  angle  of  the  entrench- 
ment. The  same  ball  slew  the  husband,  shattered 
both  elbows  of  the  wife,  and  tore  asunder  the  body 
of  one  of  the  little  twins.  General  Wheeler's  son 
was  tying  wounded.  His  mother  and  two  sisters 
were  busy  tending  him,  his  father  looking  on,  when 
a  cannon-ball  tore  through  the  wall  of  the  room 
and  smashed  the  wounded  lad's  head  literally  to 
fragments. 

One  well  had  been  turned  into  a  sepulchre ; 
to-day  it  is  built  over,  and  on  the  monument  above 
it  is  written  this  inscription : — 

In  a  well  under  this  enclosure  were  laid  by  the  hands 
of  theh^  fellows  in  suffering  the  bodies  of  men,  women, 
and  children  who  died  hard  by  during  the  heroic  defence 
of  Wheeler's  entrenchment,  when  beleaguered  by  the 
rebel  Nana. 

Then  follows  a  verse  from  Psalm  cxli : — 

"  Our  bones  are  scattered  at  the  grave's  mouth,  as 
when  one  cuttetli  and  cleaveth  wood  upon  the 
earth.  But  mine  eyes  are  unto  Thee,  O  God  the 
Lord." 

The  scanty  supplies  of  water  for  that  thirst-wasted 
crowd  had  to  be  drawn  from  the  other  well,  and 
on  it  the  Sepoys,  day  and  night,  concentrated  their 
fire.  To  draw  from  it  was  a  literal  service  of  death. 
One  brave-hearted  civilian,  named  John  Maclvillop, 
described  himself  as  "no  lighting  man,"  but  claimed 


Io6        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

to  be  appointed  "  captain  of  the  well,"  and  devoted 
himself  to  the  business  of  drawing  water,  the  most 
dangerous  task  of  the  whole  entrenchment.  He 
kept  to  his  task  for  nearly  a  week,  and  then,  while 
drawing  a  vessel  of  water,  was  shot. 

He  staggered  a  few  paces,  mortally  wounded,  then 
fell,  but  held  up  with  his  dying  hands  the  vessel 
filled  with  the  precious  fluid,  and  begged  one  who  ran 
to  his  help  to  carry  it  to  the  lady  to  whom  he  had 
promised  it.  Bayard,  dying  on  the  banks  of  the 
Secia,  and  handing  the  water  for  which  he  himself 
thirsted  to  another  dying  soldier,  has  not  a  better 
title  to  be  remembered  than  simple-minded  John 
MacKillop,  the  "  captain  "  of  the  Cawnpore  well. 

On  June  24 — when  for  nineteen  days  the  wretched 
garrison  had  been  under  gun-fire — Wheeler  writes  to 
Lawrence,  "  All  our  carriages  more  or  less  disabled, 
ammunition  short.  .  .  .  We  have  no  instruments,  no 
medicine :  the  British  spirit  alone  remains ;  but  it 
cannot  last  for  ever.  .  .  .  Surely  we  are  not  left  to 
die  like  rats  in  a  cage."  Lawrence  writes  back  on 
June  27,  giving  what  encouragement  he  can,  and 
warning  him  not  to  accept  any  terms.  "  You  cannot 
rely  on  the  Nana's  promises.  II  a  tue  beaucoup  de 
prisonniers." 

By  the  twenty-first  day  of  the  siege  the  position 
of  the  British  was  hopeless.  Food  had  almost  com- 
pletely failed.  Their  guns  had  become  unserviceable. 
The    unconquerable    garrison  was    fast    dwindling. 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  107 

"  At  rare  intervals  behind  the  earthwork  they  stood 
— gaunt  and  feeble  likenesses  of  men — clutching 
with  muffled  fingers  the  barrels  of  their  muskets, 
which  glowed  with  heat  intolerable  to  the  naked 
hand,  so  fierce  was  the  blaze  of  the  mid-day  sun." 
They  might  have  sallied  out  and  cut  their  way 
through  their  enemies,  or  died  fighting  amongst 
them ;  and  they  would  have  done  so  fifty  times  over 
but  for  one  consideration.  They  could  not  take  their 
women  and  children  with  them ;  they  could  not 
abandon  them.  There  was  the  certainty,  too,  that  the 
Indian  rains,  long  delayed,  must  soon  burst  upon  them. 
Then  their  firearms  would  be  rendered  useless ;  the 
holes  in  which  the  women  and  children  crouched 
would  be  flooded ;  their  wall  of  mud  would  be  washed 
away. 

No  sign  of  help  came  from  without.  AVheeler's 
last  despatch,  dated  June  24,  ended  with  the  words, 
"  We  want  aid,  aid,  aid."  But  not  merely  no  aid,  no 
whisper  even  from  the  outer  world  reached  the 
unhappy  garrison. 

The  Sepoys,  on  their  part,  were  growing  weary  of 
the  siege.  Their  losses  were  enormous.  They  might 
batter  the  entrenchments  into  dust,  but  they  could 
not  capture  an  inch  of  the  blackened  area  these  shot- 
wrecked  lines  of  earth  girdled.  These  Sahibs  were 
fiercer  than  wounded  tigers.  They  were,  indeed,  per- 
plexingly  and  disquietingly  aggressive.  They  were 
perpetually  making  fierce  little  sallies,  whose  track 


I08   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

was  marked  by  slaughtered  Sepoys.  Nana  Sahib 
felt  there  was  real  danger  that  his  allies  might 
abandon  their  desperate  task.  He  therefore  under- 
took to  accomplish  by  craft  what  the  Sepoys  could 
not  do  with  cannon  and  bayonet. 

Nana  Sahib  unearthed  from  some  gloomy  room  in 
the  building  which  formed  his  headquarters  a  cap- 
tive Englishwoman  waiting  to  be  slaughtered,  and 
sent  her  as  a  messenger  to  the  entrenchments  on  the 
morning  of  June  24.  "  All  those,"  ran  the  brief 
note,  "  who  are  in  no  way  connected  with  the  acts  of 
Lord  Dalhousie,  and  are  willing  to  lay  down  their 
arms,  shall  receive  a  safe  passage  to  Allahabad." 

Wheeler,  with  a  soldier's  pride,  was  unwilling  to 
give  up  the  patch  of  ground  he  held  for  the  Queen. 
The  younger  men,  with  the  flame  of  battle  in  their 
blood,  were  eager  to  fight  to  the  bitter  end.  To  trust 
to  the  faith  of  mutineers,  or  to  the  humanity  of  a 
Hindu  of  Nana  Sahib's  tiger-like  nature,  they  argued, 
was  a  sadly  desperate  venture.  Yet  that  way  there 
miofht  lie  a  chance  of  life  for  the  women  and  children. 
Death  was  certain  if  the  siege  lasted.  It  might  be 
less  certain  if  they  capitulated. 

The  25  th  was  spent  in  negotiations.  Moore  and 
two  others  met  the  Nana's  representatives  at  a  spot 
200  yards  outside  the  entrenchments.  They  offered 
to  surrender  on  condition  that  they  were  allowed  to 
march  out  under  arms,  with  sixty  rounds  of  ammu- 
nition to  each  man ;  that  carriages  were  provided  for 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    SIEGE  IO9 

the  wounded,  the  ladies,  and  the  children ;  and  that 
boats,  duly  stocked  with  food,  were  supplied  to  carry 
them  to  Allahabad.  In  the  afternoon  the  Nana  sent 
in  a  verbal  message  saying  that  he  accepted  the  terms, 
and  the  British  must  march  out  that  night.  They 
refused  to  do  this,  as  they  needed  to  make  some 
preparations.  On  this,  the  Nana  sent  an  insolent 
message  announcing  that  he  must  have  his  will ;  that 
if  they  delayed  he  would  open  on  them  with  all  his 
guns;  and,  as  they  were  perishing  fast  from  mere 
hunger,  a  few  hours  would  leave  not  one  of  them 
alive. 

Whiting,  a  gallant  soldier,  met  the  insolent  threat 
with  high  courage.  Let  the  Nana's  soldiers,  if  they 
liked,  he  answered,  try  to  carry  the  entrenchments. 
They  had  tried  in  vain  for  three  weeks  to  do  so. 
"If  pushed  to  the  last  extremity,"  Whiting  added, 
"  they  had  powder  enough  in  the  magazine  to  blow 
both  armies  into  the  Ganges !" 

Then  the  Nana  changed  his  tone,  and  grew 
effusively  polite.  His  emissaries  condoled  with 
Wheeler  for  the  sufferings  he  had  gone  through. 
But,  thanks  to  Allah,  the  Ever-Merciful,  all  was 
ended  now !  The  sahibs  and  the  memsahibs  had 
nothing  before  them  but  a  pleasant  river  voyage 
to  their  friends !  A  committee  of  British  officers, 
under  a  guard  of  rebel  cavalry,  inspected  the  boats 
gathered  at  the  landing-place,  scarcely  a  mile  dis- 
tant from  the  entrenchments ;  at  their  request  tem- 


I  I O   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

porary  floors  of  bamboos  were  laid  down  in  the  boats, 
and  roofs  of  thatch  stretched  over  them. 

Nana  Sahib,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  meant  murder ; 
murder,  sudden,  bloody,  and  all-embracing.  But  he 
enjoyed,  so  to  speak,  toying  with  his  unconscious 
victims  beforehand.  Over  the  gorgon-like  visage  of 
murder  he  hung  a  smiling  and  dainty  mask,  and 
with  soft-voiced  courtesy  he  consented  to  all  ar- 
rangements for  the  "  comfort  "  of  his  victims  ! 

That  night  at  Cawnpore  there  were  two  busy 
spots,  a  mile  distant  from  each  other.  In  the  en- 
trenchments the  poor  survivors  were  preparing  for 
their  march,  a  march — though  they  knew  it  not — 
to  the  grave.  Mothers  were  collecting  the  garments 
of  their  little  ones.  Some  paid  a  last  sad  visit  to  the 
fatal  well,  where  their  dead  were  lying.  Others  were 
packing  their  scanty  possessions,  intending  to  carry 
them  with  them.  Soldiers  were  cleaning  their 
muskets  and  storing  their  cartridges.  And  a  mile 
distant,  Tantia  Topee,  the  Nana's  general,  was  plant- 
ing his  cannon  and  arranging  his  Sepoys  so  as  to 
pour  upon  the  boats  at  a  given  signal  a  fire  which 
should  slay  the  whole  unhappy  company  they 
carried. 


CHAPTER  V 

CAWNPORE  :     THE    MURDER   GHAUT 

IT  was  a  company  of  some  450  persons — old  and 
young,   sick    and    wounded,   men,   women,    and 
children — who  filed  out  of  Wheeler's  entrenchments 
on  the  morning  of  June  27,  in  that  sad  pilgrimage. 
Trevelyan  describes  the  scene : — 

First  came  the  men  of  the  32nd  Regiment,  their 
dauntless  captain  at  their  head  ;  thinking  little  as  ever 
of  the  past,  but  much  of  the  future  ;  and  so  marching 
unconscious  towards  the  death  which  he  had  often  courted. 
Then  moved  on  the  throng  of  native  bearers,  groaning  in 
monotonous  cadence  beneath  the  weight  of  the  palan- 
quins, through  whose  sliding  panels  might  be  discerned 
the  pallid  forms  of  the  wounded  ;  their  limbs  rudely 
bandaged  with  shirt-sleeves  and  old  stockings  and  strips 
of  gown  and  petticoat.  And  next,  musket  on  shoulder 
and  revolver  in  belt,  followed  they  who  could  still  walk 
and  fight.  Step  was  not  kept  in  those  ranks.  Little  was 
there  of  martial  array,  or  soldier-like  gait  and  attitude. 
In  discoloured  flannel  and  tattered  nankeen,  mute  and  in 
pensive  mood,  tramped  by  the  remnant  of  the  immortal 
garrison.  These  men  had  finished  their  toil,  and  had 
fought  their  battle,  and  now,  if  hope  was  all  but  dead 
within  them,  there  survived  at  least  no  residue  of  fear. 


I 

i 

I  1 2    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY         ' 

i 

Vibart,  in  his  single  person,  constituted  tlie  rear- 
guard.    A  wounded  man  lying  in  a  bed  carried  by        j 
four  native  bearers,  an  English  lady  walking  by  his 
side,  came  out  of  the  entrenchment  shortly  after  the        ' 
rest  had  left.     It  was  Colonel  Ewart,  of  the  34th, 
with  his  faithful  wife.       The  little  group  could  not        i 
overtake  the  main  body,  and  when  it  had  passed  out 
of  sischt  round  a  bend  in  the  road  a  crowd  of  the 
colonel's  own  Sepoys  stopped  the  poor  wife  and  her        I 
wounded  husband.      The   porters    were   ordered   to        ' 
lay  the  bed  down,  and  with  brutal  jests  the  Sepoys        , 
mocked  their   dying  colonel.     "  Is  not  this   a   fine 
parade?"  they  asked,  with  shouts  of  laughter. 

Then,  mirth  giving  place  to  murder,  they  suddenly 
fell  upon  Ewart,  and  literally  hewed  him  to  pieces 
under  the  eyes  of  his  agonised  wife.  They  told  her 
to  go  in  peace,  as  they  would  not  kill  a  woman,  and 
by  way  of  comment  on  the  statement  one  of  them 
stepped  back  to  give  himself  room  for  the  stroke, 
and  slew  her  with  a  single  blow. 

The  road  to  the  Ganges,  a  little  over  a  mile  in 
length,  crossed  a  little  wooden  bridge  painted  white, 
and  swung  to  the  right  down  a  ravine  to  the  river. 
"  A  vast  multitude,"  says  Trevelyan,  "  speechless  and 
motionless  as  spectres,  watched  their  descent  into 
that  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death."  Directly  the 
last  Englishman  had  crossed  the  bridge  and  turned 
down  the  lane,  a  double  line  of  Sepoys  was  drawn 
across   the  entrance  to  the  Ghaut,  and  slowly  the 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER    GHAUT         I  I  3 

great  company  made  its  way  down  to  the  river's  edge. 
Some  forty  boats  were  lying  there — eight-oared  coun- 
try budgerows,  chunsy  structures,  with  thatched  roofs, 
and  looking  not  unlike  floating  hay-stacks.  They  lay 
in  the  shallow  water  a  few  yards  from  the  bank. 

A  moment's  pause  took  place  when  the  crowd  of 
sahibs  and  memsahibs,  with  their  wounded  and  the 
little  ones,  reached  the  water's  edge.  There  were  no 
planks  by  which  they  could  reach  the  boats,  none 
of  the  boatmen  spoke  a  word,  or  made  a  movement. 
They  sat  silent,  like  spectators  at  a  tragedy. 

Then  the  crowd  splashed  into  the  water.  The 
wounded  were  lifted  into  the  boats ;  women  with 
their  children  clambered  on  board  ;  the  men  were 
finding  their  places ;  the  officers,  standing  knee-deep 
in  the  river,  were  helping  the  last  and  feeblest  to 
embark.     It  was  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Suddenly,  in  the  hot  morning  air,  a  bugle  screamed 
slirill  and  menacing,  somewhere  up  the  ravine.  It 
was  the  signal  !  Out  of  the  forty  boats  the  native 
boatmen  leaped,  and  splashed  through  the  water  to 
the  bank.  Into  the  straw  roofs  of  many  of  the  boats 
they  thrust,  almost  in  the  act  of  leaping,  red-hot 
embers,  and  nearly  a  score  of  boats  were  almost 
instantly  red-crested  with  flames. 

A  little  white  Hindu  temple  high  up  on  the  bank 
overlooked  the  whole  scene.  Here  sat  Tantia  Topee, 
the  Nana's  general,  with  a  cluster  of  Sepoy  officers. 
He  controlled  the  whole  drama  from  this  point  of 

H 


114    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

vantage  like  a  stage-manager  ;  and,  on  his  signal, 
from  the  lines  of  Sepoys  who  were  lying  concealed 
in  the  undergrowth,  from  guns  perched  high  on  the 
river-bank,  and  from  both  sides  of  the  river  at  once, 
there  broke  upon  the  forty  boats,  with  their  flaming 
roofs  and  hapless  crowds  of  white-faced  passengers, 
a  terrific  storm  of  shot. 

Those  slain  by  the  sudden  bullet  were  many,  and 
were  happy  in  their  fate.  The  wounded  perished 
under  the  burning  flakes  and  strangling  smoke  of 
the  flaming  straw  roofs.  Many  leaped  into  the  river, 
and,  crouching  chin-deep  under  the  sides  of  the 
boats,  tried  to  shelter  themselves  from  the  cruel 
tempest  of  shot.  Some  swam  out  into  the  stream 
till  they  sank  in  the  reddened  water  under  the 
leisurely  aim  of  the  Sepoys.  Others,  leaping  into 
the  water,  tried  to  push  off  the  stranded  boats. 
Some  of  yet  sterner  temper,  kneeling  under  the 
roofs  of  burning  thatch,  or  standing  waist-deep  in 
the  Ganges,  fired  back  on  the  Sepoys,  who  by  this 
time  lined  the  river's  edge. 

General  Wheeler,  according  to  one  report,  perished 
beneath  the  stroke  of  a  Sepoy's  sword  as  he  stepped 
out  of  his  palkee.  His  daughters  were  slain  with 
him,  save  one,  the  youngest,  who,  less  happy,  was 
carried  off'  by  a  native  trooper  to  die  later.  In  the 
official  evidence  taken  long  afterwards  is  the  account 
given  by  a  half-caste  Christian  woman.  "  General 
Wheeler,"  she  said,  "  came  last  in  a  palkee.     They 


CAWNPORE  :  THE  MURDER  GHAUT    I  I  5 

carried  him  into  the  water  near  the  boat.  I  stood 
close  by.  He  said,  '  Carry  me  a  little  farther  towards 
the  boat.'  But  a  trooper  said, '  No  ;  get  out  here.'  As 
the  general  got  out  of  the  palkee  head  foremost,  the 
trooper  gave  him  a  cut  with  his  sword  through  the 
neck,  and  he  fell  into  the  water.  My  son  was  killed 
near  him.  I  saw  it,  alas  !  alas !  Some  were  stabbed 
with  bayonets  ;  others  cut  down.  Little  infants  were 
torn  in  pieces.  We  saw  it,  we  did  !  and  tell  you  only 
what  we  saw.  Other  children  were  stabbed  and 
thrown  into  the  river.  The  school-girls  were  burnt 
to  death.     I  saw  their  clothes  and  hair  catch  fire." 

Presently  the  fire  of  the  Sepoys  ceased,  and  the 
wretched  survivors  of  the  massacre — 125  in  number 
— were  dragged  ashore.  They  came  stumbling  up 
the  slope  of  the  bank,  a  bedraggled  company,  their 
clothing  dripping  with  the  water  of  the  Ganges,  or 
soiled  with  its  mud.  They  crept  up  the  ravine  down 
which,  a  brief  hour  before,  they  had  walked  with 
Hope  shining  before  them.  Now  Grief  kept  pace  with 
them  ;  Despair  went  before  them ;  Death  followed 
after.  They  had  left  their  dead  in  the  river  behind 
them ;  they  were  walking  to  a  yet  more  cruel  fate 
in  front.  "  I  saw  that  many  of  the  ladies  were 
wounded,"  said  one  witness  afterwards ;  "  their 
clothes  had  blood  on  them.  Some  had  their  dresses 
torn,  but  all  had  clothes.  I  saw  one  or  two  children 
without  clothes.  There  were  no  men  in  the  party,  but 
only  some  boys  of  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age." 


I  1 6    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GKEAT  MUTINY 

The  sad  company  was  marched  back  to  the  old 
cantonment,  where  the  Nana  himself  came  out  to 
exult  over  his  victims.  Lady  Canning,  in  her  journal, 
writes :  "  There  were  fifteen  young  ladies  in  Cawn- 
poro,  and  at  first  they  wrote  such  happy  letters, 
saying  time  had  never  been  so  pleasant ;  it  was 
every  day  like  a  picnic,  and  they  hoped  they  would 
not  be  sent  away ;  they  said  a  regiment  would  come, 
and  they  felt  quite  safe.  Poor,  poor  things  ;  not  one 
of  them  was  saved."  How  many  of  that  girlish  band 
of  fifteen  perished,  with  flaming  hair  and  dress,  in 
the  boats  ?  Or  did  they  stand  shivering  in  the  icy 
chill  of  terror,  amongst  the  captives  over  whom  the 
tiger  glance  of  Nana  Sahib  wandered  in  triumph  ? 
After  being  duly  inspected,  these  poor  captives  were 
thrust  into  a  couple  of  rooms  in  the  Savada-house, 
and  left  to  what  reflections  may  be  imagined. 

Three  boats  out  of  the  forty,  meanwhile,  had 
actually  got  away.  Two  drifted  to  the  Oude  shore, 
and  were  overtaken  by  instant  massacre.  One  boat, 
however,  had  for  the  moment  a  happier  fate.  It 
caught  the  mid-current  of  the  Ganges,  and  went 
drifting  downwards ;  and  that  solitary  drifting  boat, 
without  oars  or  rudder,  bearing  up  in  its  crazy  planks 
above  the  dark  waters  of  the  Ganges  the  sole  survivors 
of  the  heroic  garrison  of  Cawnpore,  started  on  a 
wilder,  stranger  voyage  than  is  recorded  elsewhere 
in  all  history. 

It  was  Yibart's  boat;   and  by  a  curious  chance  it 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER    GHAIJT         I  1 7 

included  in  its  passengers  the  most  heroic  spirits 
in  the  garrison.  Moore  was  there,  and  Ashe,  and 
Delafosse ;  Mowbray  Thomson  swam  out  to  it  from 
his  own  boat,  and  with  him  Murphy,  a  private  of 
the  32nd — two  of  the  four  who  finally  survived  out 
of  the  whole  garrison.  The  boat  was  intended  to 
carry  only  fifty,  but  nearly  a  hundred  fugitives  were 
crowded  within  its  crazy  sides. 

A  cannon-shot  smashed  its  rudder.  It  had  no 
oars  nor  food.  From  either  bank  a  hail  of  shot 
pursued  it.  Every  now  and  again  the  clumsy  boat 
would  ground  on  some  shallow ;  then,  while  the 
Sepoys  shot  fast  and  furiously,  a  group  of  officers 
would  jump  overboard,  and  push  the  clumsy  craft 
afloat  again. 

Moore,  pushing  at  the  boat  in  this  fashion,  with 
broken  collar-bone,  was  shot  through  the  heart. 
Ashe  and  Bowden  and  Glanville  shared  the  same 
fate.  Soon  the  dying  and  the  dead  on  the  deck  of 
this  shot-pelted  boat  were  as  many  as  the  living. 
"  We  had  no  food  in  the  boat,"  wrote  Mowbray 
Thomson  afterwards ;  "  the  water  of  the  Ganges 
was  all  that  passed  our  lips.  The  wounded  and 
the  dead  were  often  entangled  together  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat." 

When  evening  came  the  boat  ran  heavily  aground. 
Under  the  screen  of  darkness  the  women  and  chil- 
dren were  landed,  and  the  boat,  with  great  effort, 
floated  again;  the  Sepoys  accompanying  the  opera- 


Il8        THE   TALE   OF   THE   GREAT   MUTINY 

tion  with  volleys  of  musketry,  flights  of  burning 
arrows,  and  even  a  clumsy  attempt  at  a  fire-ship. 
"  No  one  slept  that  night,  and  no  one  ate,  for  food 
there  was  none  on  board." 

When  day  broke  the  tragical  voyage  was  con- 
tinued, still  to  an  accompaniment  of  musketry 
bullets.  At  two  o'clock  the  boat  stranded  again. 
"Major  Vibart,"  says  Mowbray  Thomson,  "had  been 
shot  through  one  arm  on  the  preceding  day.  Never- 
theless, he  got  out,  and,  while  helping  to  push  off 
the  boat,  was  shot  through  the  other  arm.  Captain 
Turner  had  both  his  legs  smashed,  Captain  Whiting 
was  killed.  Lieutenant  Harrison  was  shot  dead." 
These  are  sample  records  from  that  strange  log. 

Towards  evening  a  boat,  manned  by  some  sixty 
Sepoys,  appeared  in  pursuit,  but  it,  too,  ran  upon  a 
sand-bank,  and  this  gave  the  sahibs  an  opportunity 
at  which  they  leaped  with  fierce  joy.  From  the 
sorely  battered  boat,  which  had  been  pelted  for 
nearly  two  days  and  nights  with  bullets,  a  score  of 
haggard  and  ragged  figures  tumbled,  and  came 
splashing,  with  stern  purpose,  through  the  shallows. 
And  then,  for  some  twenty  breathless  minutes,  the 
Sepoys,  by  way  of  change,  instead  of  being  hunters, 
became  the  hunted,  and  only  some  half-dozen,  who 
were  good  swimmers,  escaped  to  tell  their  comrades 
what  the  experience  was  like.  Mowbray  Thomson 
tells  the  story  in  disappointingly  bald  prose.  "  In- 
stead of  waiting  for  them  to  attack  us,"  he  says, 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER   GHAUT         I  I  Q 

"  eighteen  or  twenty  of  us  charged  them,  and  few  of 
then'  number  escaped  to  tell  the  story." 

Night  fell  black  and  stormy,  and  through  falhng 
rain  and  the  sighing  darkness  the  boat,  with  its 
freight  of  dead  and  dying,  drifted  on.  It  recalls  the 
ship  of  which  Tennyson  sang,  with  its  "  dark  freight, 
a  vanished  life."  In  the  morning  it  was  found  that 
the  boat  had  drifted  into  some  backwater  whence 
escape  was  impossible.  The  Sepoys  lined  the  bank 
and  fired  heavily.  Vibart,  who  was  dying,  but  still 
remained  the  master  spirit  of  the  little  company, 
ordered  a  sally.  "Whilst  there  was  a  sound  arm 
among  them  that  could  load  and  fire,  or  thrust  with 
the  bayonet,"  says  Kaye,  "  still  the  great  game  of  the 
English  was  to  go  to  the  front  and  smite  the  enemy, 
as  a  race  that  seldom  waited  to  be  smitten." 

Mowbray  Thomson  and  Delafosse,  with  some 
twelve  men  of  the  82nd  and  34th,  clambered  over 
the  side  of  the  boat,  waded  ashore,  and  charged  the 
Sepoys,  who  fled  before  them.  They  pressed  eagerly 
on,  shooting  and  stabbing,  but  presently  found  new 
crowds  of  the  enemy  gathering  in  their  rear.  The 
gallant  fourteen  faced  about,  and  fought  their  way 
back  to  where  they  had  left  the  boat.  Alas !  it  had 
vanished. 

They  commenced  to  march  along  the  river-bank 
in  the  direction  of  Allahabad,  with  an  interval  of 
twenty  paces  between  each  man,  so  as  to  make  the 
fire  of  their  pursuers   less   deadly.     Shoeless,   faint 


I20        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

with  hunger,  bare-headed,  they  fought  their  way  for 
some  miles.  Their  pursuers  grew  rapidly  in  num- 
bers and  daring.  One  Englishman  had  fallen;  the 
others  wheeled  suddenly  round,  and  seized  a  small 
Hindu  temple,  determined  to  make  a  last  stand  there. 
There  Avas  just  room  enough  for  the  thirteen  to  stand 
upright  in  the  little  shrine.  Their  pursuers,  after  a 
few  minutes'  anxious  pause,  tried  to  rush  the  door ; 
but,  as  the  historian  of  the  fight  puts  it,  "  there  was 
no  room  for  any  of  them  inside" — though,  as  it 
turned  out,  a  good  deal  of  room  was  required  out- 
side for  the  dead  bodies  of  those  who  had  made  the 
attempt. 

An  effort  was  made  to  smoke  out,  and  then  to 
burn  out,  the  unconquerable  sahibs.  When  these 
devices  failed,  gunpowder  was  brought  up,  and  ar- 
ranofements  made  for  blowinsf  the  entire  shrine,  with 
its  indomitable  garrison,  into  space.  Seeing  these 
preparations,  the  British  charged  out.  Seven  of 
them,  who  could  swim,  stripped  themselves,  and 
headed  the  sally,  intending  to  break  through  to  the 
river. 

Seven  naked  sahibs,  charging  through  smoke  and 
flame,  with  levelled  bayonets,  would  naturally  be  a 
somewhat  disquieting  apparition,  and  the  seven  had 
no  difficulty  in  breaking  through  their  enemies,  and 
reaching  the  Ganges.  The  other  six,  who  could  not 
swim,  ran  full  into  the  Sepoy  mass,  and  died  mute 
and  fiL^-htin^-. 


CAWNPOKE  :  THE  MURDER  GHAUT    I  2  I 

Then  commenced  the  pursuit  of  the  swimmers. 
Two  were  soon  shot  and  sank ;  a  third,  swimming 
on  his  back,  and  not  seeing  where  he  was  going, 
struck  a  sandspit,  where  some  natives  were  waiting  to 
beat  out  his  brains  at  leisure.  There  remained  four 
— Mowbray  Thomson,  Delafosse,  and  two  privates,  a 
pair  of  strong-hmbed  and  brave-hearted  Irishmen, 
named  Murphy  and  Sullivan.  This  heroic  and 
much-enduring  four,  diving  like  wild  ducks  at  the 
flash  of  hostile  muskets,  out-swam  and  out-tired  their 
pursuers.  When  at  last  they  landed,  they  had  be- 
tween them  "  a  flannel  shirt,  a  strip  of  linen  cloth, 
and  five  severe  wounds"  !  They  found  refuge  with  a 
friendly  landowner,  and  reached  the  British  lines, 
though  Sullivan  died  within  a  fortnight  of  reach- 
ing the  place  of  safety. 

Meanwhile,  what  had  happened  to  the  boat  after 
the  gallant  fourteen  left  it  ?  Its  crew  consisted  of 
little  else  than  w^ounded  men,  dead  bodies,  and  ex- 
hausted women  and  children.  Upon  these  swooped 
down  a  great  crowd  of  enemies.  The  boat  was  cap- 
tured, and  its  stem  promptly  turned  back  towards 
Cawnpore.  On  the  morning  of  June  ;^o,  the  boat  lay 
asrain  at  the  entrance  of  the  fatal  o-haut. 

o  o 

In  the  evidence  taken  long  afterwards,  there  were 
brought  back,  according  to  one  native  witness,  sixty 
sahibs,  twenty-five  memsahibs,  and  four  children. 
*'  The  Nana  ordered  the  sahibs  to  be  separated  from 
the  memsahibs,  and  shot.     So  the  sahibs  were  seated 


122    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

on  the  ground,  and  two  companies  of  the  Nadiree 
Kegiment  stood  ready  to  fire.  Then  said  one  of  the 
memsahibs,  the  doctor's  wife  (What  doctor  ?  How 
should  I  know  ?)  '  I  will  not  leave  my  husband.  If 
he  must  die,  I  will  die  with  him.'  So  she  ran  and 
sat  down  behind  her  husband,  clasping  him  round 
the  waist.  Directly  she  said  this,  the  other  mem- 
sahibs said,  'We  also  will  die  with  our  husbands,' 
and  they  all  sat  down,  each  with  her  husband.  Then 
their  husbands  said,  '  Go  back,'  but  they  would  not. 
Whereupon  the  Nana  ordered  his  soldiers ;  and  they, 
going  in,  pulled  them  away  forcibly.  But  they  could 
not  pull  away  the  doctor's  wife." 

Captain  Seppings  asked  leave  to  read  prayers  before 
they  died.  His  hands  were  untied;  one  arm  hung 
broken,  but,  standing  up,  he  groped  in  his  pocket  for 
a  little  prayer-book,  and  commenced  to  read — but 
what  prayer  or  psalm,  none  now  can  tell.  "  After  he 
had  read,"  as  the  witness  tells  the  story,  "  he  shut  the 
book,  and  the  sahibs  shook  hands  all  round.  Then 
the  Sepoys  fired.  One  sahib  rolled  one  way,  one  an- 
other as  they  sat.  But  they  were  not  dead,  only 
wounded.  So  they  went  in  and  finished  them  off 
with  swords."  When  all  was  over,  the  twenty-four 
memsahibs,  with  their  four  children,  were  sent  to 
swell  the  little  crowd  of  captives  in  Savada-house. 
Some  seventeen  days  of  weeping  life  yet  intervened 
between  them  and  the  fatal  Well. 

The  story  of  the  final  act  in  the  great  tragedy  at 


GAWNPOKE  :   THE   MURDER  GHAUT         I  23 

Cawnpore  cannot  be  told  without  some  account  of 
events  outside  Cawnpore  itself.  A  relieving  force  had 
been  organised  at  Calcutta,  of  which  Neill's  Fusileers 
at  Allahabad  were  the  advance  guard ;  but  a  leader  was 
wanted,  and  on  June  17  Sir  Patrick  Grant  brought 
Havelock,  "  the  dust  of  Persia  still  in  the  crevices  of 
his  sword-handle,"  to  the  Governor-General,  saying, 
"  Your  Excellency,  I  have  brought  you  the  man." 

Havelock  was  sixty-two  years  of  age  when  the  great 
chance  of  his  life  came  to  him.  A  little  man,  prim, 
erect,  alert,  quick-footed,  stern-featured,  with  snow- 
white  moustache  and  beard.  Havelock,  no  doubt, 
had  his  limitations.  A  strain  of  severity  ran  through 
his  character.  "  He  was  always,"  says  one  who  served 
under  him,  "  as  sour  as  if  he  had  swallowed  a  pint  of 
vinegar,  except  when  he  was  being  shot  at,  and  then 
he  was  as  blithe  as  a  schoolboy  out  for  a  holiday." 
There  is  a  touch  of  burlesque,  of  course,  in  that  sen- 
tence ;  but  Havelock  was,  no  doubt,  austere  of  temper, 
impatient  of  fools,  and  had  a  will  that  moved  to  its 
end  with  something  of  the  fiery  haste  and  scorn  of 
obstacles  proper  to  a  cannon  ball.  He  was  fond,  too, 
of  making  Napoleonic  orations  to  his  men,  and  had 
a  high-pitched,  carrying  voice,  which  could  make 
itself  audible  to  a  regiment.  And  the  British  soldier 
in  fighting  mood  is  rather  apt  to  be  impatient  of 
oratory. 

But  Havelock  was  a  trained  and  scientific  soldier, 
audacious  and  resolute  in  the  highest  degree ;  a  deeply 


124    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

religious  man,  with  a  sense  of  duty  of  the  antique 
sort,  that  scorned  ease,  and  reckoned  life,  when 
weighed  against  honour,  as  a  mere  grain  of  wind- 
blown dust.  And  Havelock,  somehow,  inspired  in 
his  men  a  touch  of  that  sternness  of  valour  we  asso- 
ciate with  Cromwell's  Ironsides. 

It  is  curious,  in  view  of  Havelock's  achievements 
and  after-fame,  to  read  in  the  current  literature  of  the 
moment,  the  impression  he  made  upon  hasty  critics 
in  Calcutta  and  elsewhere.  The  Friend  of  India, 
the  leading  Calcutta  journal,  described  him  as  a 
"fossil  general"!  Lady  Canning,  in  her  journal, 
writes :  "  General  Havelock  is  not  in  fashion.  No 
doubt  he  is  fussy  and  tiresome ;  but  his  little,  old, 
stiff  figure  looks  as  active  and  fit  for  use  as  if  he  were 
made  of  steel."  She  again  and  again  refers  to  "  dear 
little  old  Havelock,  with  his  fussiness  " — "  fussiness  " 
being  in  this  case,  little  more  than  the  impatience 
of  a  strong  will  set  to  a  great  task,  and  fretted  by 
threads  of  red  tape.  Lord  Hardinge  had  said,  "If 
India  is  ever  in  danger,  let  Havelock  be  put  in  com- 
mand of  an  army,  and  it  will  be  saved."  And  Have- 
lock's after-history  amply  justified  that  prediction. 

Havelock  had  about  the  tiniest  force  that  ever  set 
forth  to  the  task  of  saving  an  empire.  It  never  was 
able  to  put  on  the  actual  battle-field  1500  men. 
There  were  76  men  of  the  Royal  Artillery;  less  than 
400  of  the  Madras  Fusileers;  less  than  300  of  the 
78th  Highlanders;  435  men  of  the  64th,  and  190  of 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER,    GHAUT         I  2  5 

the  84th,  with  450  Sikhs  of  somewhat  doubtful  loyalty, 
and  50  native  irregular  horse,  whose  disloyalty  was 
not  in  the  least  doubtful.  Havelock's  reliable  cavalry 
consisted  of  20  volunteers,  amateurs  mostly,  under 
Barrow. 

Measured  against  the  scale  of  modern  armies, 
Havelock's  force  seems  little  more  than  a  corporal's 
guard.  But  the  fighting  value  of  this  little  army  was 
not  to  be  measured  by  counting  its  files.  "  Better 
soldiers,"  says  Archibald  Forbes,  "  have  never  trod 
this  earth."  They  commenced  their  march  from 
Allahabad  on  July  7 ;  they  marched,  and  fought, 
and  conquered  under  the  intolerable  heat  of  an 
Indian  midsummer,  and  against  overwhelming  odds ; 
until  when,  on  September  19 — little  more  than  eight 
weeks  afterwards — Outram  and  Havelock  crossed  the 
Ganges  in  their  advance  on  Lucknow,  only  250  of 
Havelock's  "  Ironsides  "  were  left  to  take  part  in  that 
advance.  In  the  whole  history  of  the  war,  men  have 
seldom  dared,  and  endured,  and  achieved  more  than 
did  Havelock's  column  in  the  gallant  but  vain 
struggle  to  relieve  Cawnpore. 

Maude  commanded  its  tiny  battery ;  Hamilton  led 
the  Highlanders ;  Stirling  the  64th ;  the  gallant,  ill- 
fated  Renaud,  the  Fusileers.  Stuart  Beatson  was 
Havelock's  assistant  adjutant-general;  Fraser  Tytler 
was  his  assistant  quartermaster  -  general.  Of  the 
Highlanders — the  Ross-shire  Buffs — Forbes  says,  "  It 
was  a  remarkable  regiment ;   Scottish  to  the  back- 


126    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

bone;  Highland  to  the  core  of  its  heart.  Its  ranks 
were  filled  with  Mackenzies,  Macdonalds,  Tullochs, 
Macnabs,  Bosses,  Giinns,  and  Mackays.  The  Chris- 
tian name  of  half  the  Grenadier  company  was  Donald. 
It  could  glow  with  the  Highland  fervour ;  it  could  be 
sullen  with  the  Highland  dourness ;  and  it  may  be 
added,  it  could  charge  with  the  stern  and  irresistible 
valour  of  the  North. 

When  the  little  force  began  its  march  for  Cawn- 
pore,  the  soil  was  swampy  with  the  first  furious 
showers  of  the  rainy  season,  and  in  the  intervals  of 
the  rain,  the  skies  were  white  with  the  glare  of  an 
Indian  sun  in  July.  "  For  the  first  three  days,"  says 
Maude,  "  they  waded  in  a  sea  of  slush,  knee-deep 
now,  and  now  breast-high,  while  the  flood  of  tropical 
rain  beat  down  from  overhead.  As  far  to  right  and 
left  as  eye  could  pierce  extended  one  vast  morass." 
After  these  three  days'  toil  through  rain  and  mud, 
the  rains  vanished ;  the  sky  above  them  became  like 
white  flame,  and,  till  they  reached  Cawnpore,  Have- 
lock's  troops  had  to  march  and  fight  under  a  sun  that 
was  well-nigh  as  deadly  as  the  enemy's  bullets. 

On  July  1 1  Havelock  marched  fifteen  miles  under 
the  intolerable  heat  to  Arrapore.  Camping  for  a 
few  hours,  he  started  again  at  midnight,  picked  up 
Kenaud's  men  while  the  stars  were  yet  glittering  in  the 
heaven,  pushed  steadily  on,  and  at  seven  o'clock,  after 
a  march  of  sixteen  miles,  camped  at  Belinda,  four 
miles  out  of  Futtehpore.     The  men  had  outmarched 


CAWNPORE  :  THE  MURDER  GHAUT    I  27 

the  tents  and  baggage,  and  were  almost  exhausted. 
They  had  fallen  out,  and  were  scattered  under  the 
trees,  "  some  rubbing  melted  fat  on  their  blistered 
feet,  others  cooling  their  chafes  in  the  pools;  many 
more  too  dead-beaten  to  do  anything  but  lie  still." 
It  was  Sunday  morning. 

Suddenly  there  broke  above  the  groups  of  tired 
soldiery  the  roar  of  cannon.  Grape-shot  swept  over 
the  camp.  Over  the  crest  and  down  the  opposite 
slopes  rode,  with  shouts  and  brandished  tulwars,  a 
huge  mass  of  rebel  cavalry.  It  was  a  genuine  sur- 
prise !  But  the  bugles  rang  out  shrilly  over  the 
scattered  clusters  of  Havelock's  men.  They  fell 
instantly  into  formation  ;  skirmishers  ran  to  the 
front,  and  the  enemy's  cavalry  came  to  an  abrupt 
halt.  It  was  a  surprise  for  them,  too.  They  had 
expected  to  see  only  Renaud's  composite  force — a 
mere  handful ;  what  they  beheld  instead,  was  Have- 
lock's steadv  and  workmanlike  front. 

Havelock  did  not  attack  immediately.  His  cool 
judgment  warned  him  that  his  over-wearied  soldiers 
needed  rest  before  being  flung  into  the  fight,  and 
orders  were  given  for  the  men  to  lie  down  in  rank. 
Presently  the  rebel  cavalry  wheeled  aside,  and  re- 
vealed a  long  front  of  infantry,  with  batteries  of 
artillery,  and  the  rebel  general,  finding  the  British 
motionless,  actually  began  a  movement  to  turn  their 
flank  o 

Then  Havelock  struck,  and  struck  swiftly  and  hard. 


128    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Maude's  battery  was  sent  forward.  He  took  his  pieces 
at  a  run  to  within  200  yards  of  the  enemy's  front, 
wheeled  round,  and  opened  fire.  The  British  in- 
fantry, covered  by  a  spray  of  skirmishers  armed 
with  Enfield  rifles,  swept  steadily  forward.  The 
rebel  general,  conspicuous  on  a  gorgeously  adorned 
elephant,  was  busy  directing  the  movements  of  his 
force;  and  Maude  tells  the  story  of  hoAv  Stuart 
Beatson,  who  stood  near  his  guns,  asked  him  to 
"knock  over  that  chap  on  the  elephant."  "I  dis- 
mounted," says  Maude,  "  and  laid  the  gun  myself,  a 
9-pounder,  at  'line  of  metal'  (700  yards)  range, 
and  my  first  shot  went  in  under  the  beast's  tail,  and 
came  out  at  his  chest,  rolling  it  over  and  giving  its 
rider  a  bad  fall." 

Its  rider,  as  it  happened,  was  Tantia  Topee,  the 
Nana's  general ;  and  had  that  9-pound  ball  struck 
him,  instead  of  his  elephant,  it  might  have  saved  the 
lives  of  the  women  and  children  in  Cawnpore. 

Meanwhile,  the  64th  and  the  Highlanders  in  one 
resolute  charge  had  swept  over  the  rebel  guns. 
Renaud,  with  his  Fusileers,  had  crumpled  up  their 
flank,  and  the  Nana's  troops,  a  torrent  of  fugitives, 
were  in  full  flight  to  Futtehpore.  The  battle  was 
practically  won  in  ten  minutes,  all  the  rebel  guns 
being  captured — so  fierce  and  swift  was  the  British 
advance. 

The  rebel  Sepoys  knew  the  fighting  quality  of 
the  sahibs ;  but  now  they  found  a  quite  new  fierce- 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER    GHAUT         129 

ness  in  it.  Havelock's  soldiers  were  on  fire  to  avenge 
a  thousand  murders.  And,  flying  fast,  as  Trevelyan 
puts  it,  the  Nana's  troops  "  told  everywhere  that  the 
sahibs  had  come  back  in  strange  guise ;  some  draped 
like  women  to  remind  them  what  manner  of  wroncf 
they  were  SAVorn  to  requite ;  others,  conspicuous  by 
tall  blue  caps,  who  hit  their  mark  without  being  seen 
to  fire — the  native  description  of  the  Enfield  rifle 
with  which  the  Madras  Fusileers  were  armed. 

The  fight  at  Futtehpore  is  memorable  as  being  the 
first  occasion  on  which  British  troops  and  the  rebel 
Sepoys  met  in  open  battle.  The  Nana  had  shortly 
before  issued  a  proclamation  announcing  that  the 
British  had  "  all  been  destroyed  and  sent  to  hell  by 
the  pious  and  sagacious  troops  who  were  firm  to  their 
religion " ;  and,  as  "  no  trace  of  them  was  left,  it 
became  the  duty  of  all  the  subjects  of  the  Govern- 
ment to  rejoice  at  the  delightful  intelligence."  But 
Futtehpore  showed  that  "  all  the  yellow-faced  and 
narrow-minded  people  "  had  not  been  "  sent  to  hell." 
They  had  reappeared,  indeed,  with  uncomfortable 
energy,  and  a  disagreeable  determination  to  despatch 
every  Sepoy  they  could  capture  somewhere  in  that 
direction ! 

Havelock's  men  had  marched  nineteen  miles,  and 

fought  and  won  a  great  battle,  without  a  particle  of 

food,  and  so  dreadful  was  the  heat  that  twelve  men 

died  of  sunstroke.     Havelock  camped  on  July  1 3  to 

give  his  men  rest,  resumed  his  march  on  the  14th, 

I 


I30        THE   TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

and  on  the  morning  of  the  15  th  found  the  Sepoys 
drawn  up  in  great  strength  in  front  of  a  village  called 
Aong,  twenty-two  miles  south  of  Cawnpore.  Renaud 
led  his  Fusileers  straight  at  the  village,  and  carried 
it  with  a  furious  bayonet  charge,  but  the  gallant 
leader  of  the  "  blue  caps  "  fell,  mortally  wounded,  in 
the  charge.  Maude's  guns  smashed  the  enemy's 
artillery,  and  when  the  Highlanders  and  the  64th 
were  seen  coming  on,  the  Sepoys  again  fled. 

Havelock  pressed  steadily  on,  and  found  the 
Sepoys  had  rallied  and  were  drawn  up  in  a  strong 
position,  covered  by  a  rivulet,  swollen  bank-high 
with  recent  rains,  known  as  Pandoo  Nuddee.  A  fine 
stone  bridge  crossed  the  river ;  it  was  guarded  by  a 
24-pound  gun,  a  2  5 -pound  carronade,  and  a  strong 
force  of  infantry.  Havelock  quickly  developed  his 
plan  of  attack.  Maude  raced  forward  with  his  guns, 
and  2^1aced  them  at  three  different  points,  so  as  to 
bring  a  concentric  fire  to  bear  on  the  bridge.  Maude's 
first  blast  of  spherical  case-shell  broke  the  sponge 
staves  of  the  heavy  guns  in  the  rebel  battery,  and 
rendered  them  useless. 

The  Sepoys  tried  to  blow  up  the  bridge.  But 
Maude's  fire  was  hot;  Ste2:)henson,  with  his  "blue 
caps,"  was  coming  up  at  the  double,  and  the  Sepoys 
got  flurried.  They  had  mined  the  bridge,  and  the 
mine  was  fired  prematurely.  The  exj)losion  shattered 
the  parapet  of  the  bridge,  but  through  the  white 
smoke  came  the  Fusileers,  their  bayonets  sparkling 


CAWNPOKE  :   THE    MURDER   GHAUT         I  3  I 

vengefully.  The  Highlanders  followed  eagerly  in 
support.  The  bridge  was  carried,  the  guns  taken, 
the  rebel  gunners  bayoneted,  the  rebel  centre  pierced 
and  broken,  and  the  rebel  army  itself  swept  north- 
wards, with  infinite  dust  and  noise,  in  a  mere  tumult 
of  panic-stricken  flight. 

The  British  camped  for  the  night  on  the  battle- 
field. At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  with  the  stars 
sparkling  keenly  over  their  heads,  and  a  full  moon 
flooding  the  camp  with  its  white  light,  Havelock 
formed  up  his  men.  He  told  them  he  had  learned 
there  were  some  200  women  and  children  still  held 
as  prisoners  in  Cawnpore,  the  survivors  of  the 
massacre  of  June  27.  "  Think  of  our  women  and 
the  little  ones,"  he  said,  "  in  the  power  of  those  devils 
incarnate."  The  men  answered  with  a  shout,  and, 
without  waiting  for  the  word  of  command,  went 
"  fours  right,"  and  took  the  road. 

It  was  a  march  of  twenty  miles.  The  sun  rose 
and  scorched  the  silent  and  panting  ranks  of  the 
British  with  its  pitiless  heat.  The  Highlanders  suf- 
fered most ;  they  were  wholly  unprepared  for  a  sum- 
mer campaign,  and  were  actually  wearing  the  heavy 
woollen  doublets  intended  for  winter  use ;  but  their 
stubborn  Northern  blood  sustained  them.  Every 
now  and  again,  indeed,  some  poor  fellow  in  the  ranks 
dropped  as  though  shot  through  the  head,  literally 
killed  with  the  heat.  Nana  Sahib  himself  held  the 
approach  to  Cawnpore,  with  7000  troops  and  a  power- 


132    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

fill  artillery,  and  his  position  was  found  to  be  of  great 
strength. 

Havelock  studied  it  a  few  minutes  with  keen  and 
soldierly  glance,  and  formed  his  plans.  He  had  the 
genius  which  can  use  rules,  but  which  also,  on  occa- 
sion, can  dispense  with  rules.  He  violated  all  the 
accepted  canons  of  war  in  his  attack  upon  the  Nana's 
position.  He  amused  the  enemy's  front  with  the  fire 
of  a  company  of  the  Fusileers,  and  the  manoeuvres 
of  Barrow's  twenty  volunteer  sabres,  while  with  his 
whole  force  he  himself  swept  round  to  the  right  to 
turn  the  Nana's  Hank.  Havelock,  that  is,  risked  his 
baggage  and  his  communications,  to  strike  a  daring 
blow  for  victory. 

As  Havelock's  men  pressed  grimly  forward,  screened 
by  a  small  grove,  they  heard  the  bands  of  the  Sepoy 
regiments  playing  "  Auld  lang  syne "  and  "  Cheer, 
boys,  cheer,"  and  the  sound  made  the  men  clutch 
their  muskets  with  a  little  touch  of  added  fury.  The 
Sepoys  discovered  Havelock's  strategy  rather  late, 
and  swunof  their  o^uns  round  to  meet  it.  Their  fire 
smote  the  flank  of  Havelock's  column  cruelly,  but  the 
British  never  paused  nor  faltered.  When  Havelock 
judged  his  turning  movement  was  sufficiently  ad- 
vanced, he  wheeled  the  column  into  line.  His  light 
guns  were  insufficient  to  beat  down  the  fire  of  the 
heavy  pieces  worked  by  the  rebels,  and  he  launched 
his  Highlanders  at  the  battery.  They  moved  dourly 
forward  under  a  heavy  fire,  till  within  eighty  yards  of 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDEK    GHAUT         I  3  3 

the  guns.  Then  the  bayonets  came  down  to  the 
charge,  and  with  heads  bent  low  and  kilts  flying  in 
the  wind,  the  Highlanders  went  in  with  a  run.  The 
charge  was  in  perfect  silence,  not  a  shot  nor  a  shout 
being  heard ;  but  it  was  so  furious  that  mound  and 
guns  were  carried  in  an  instant,  and  the  village  itself 
swept  through.  As  Forbes  describes  it,  "  Mad  with 
the  ardour  of  battle,  every  drop  of  Highland  blood 
afire  in  every  vein,  the  Ross-shire  men  crashed  right 
through  the  village,  and  cleared  it  before  they  dropped 
out  of  the  double."  They  had  crushed  the  enemy's 
left,  taken  its  guns,  and  sent  a  great  mass  of  Sepoys 
whirling  to  the  rear. 

But  the  moment  they  emerged  from  the  village, 
the  great  howitzer  in  the  Nana's  centre  opened  fire 
upon  the  Highlanders,  and  once  more  the  unequal 
duel  between  bayonet  and  cannon  had  to  be  renewed. 
Havelock  himself  galloped  up  to  where  the  High- 
landers were  reforming  after  the  confusion  and  rap- 
ture of  their  rush,  and,  pointing  with  his  sword  to  the 
great  howitzer,  pouring  its  red  torrent  of  flame  upon 
them,  cried :  "  Now,  Highlanders  !  another  charge  like 
that  wins  the  day." 

The  Gaelic  blood  was  still  on  fire.  The  ofiicers 
could  hardly  restrain  their  men  till  they  were  roughly 
formed.  In  another  moment  the  kilts  and  bonnets 
and  bayonets  of  the  78th  were  pouring  in  a  torrent 
over  the  big  gun,  and  the  rebel  centre  was  broken ! 
Meanwhile  the  64th  and  84th  had  thrust  roughly 


134   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

back  Nana  Saliib's  right  wing ;  but,  fighting  bravely, 
the  Sepoys  clung  with  unusual  courage  to  a  village 
about  a  mile  to  the  rear  of  the  position  they  first  held, 
and  their  guns,  drawn  up  in  its  front,  fired  fast  and 
with  deadly  effect. 

The  Highlanders,  pressing  on  from  the  centre,  found 
themselves  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  the  64th,  ad- 
vancing from  the  left.  Maude's  guns,  with  the  teams 
utterly  exhausted,  were  a  mile  to  the  rear.  Men  were 
dropping  fast  in  the  British  ranks,  worn  out  with 
marching  and  charging  under  heat  so  cruel.  In  the 
smoke-blackened  lines  men  were  stumbling  from 
very  fatigue  as  they  advanced  on  the  quick  red 
flashes  and  eddying  smoke  of  the  battery  which 
covered  the  village.  But  Havelock,  riding  with  the 
leading  files,  knew  the  soldier's  nature  "from  the 
crown  of  his  shako  down  to  his  ammunition  boots." 
"  Who,"  he  cried,  "  is  to  take  that  village — the  High- 
landers or  the  64th  ? "  Both  regiments  had  Northern 
blood  in  them — the  64th  is  now  known  as  the  North 
Staffordshire — and  that  sudden  appeal,  that  pitted 
regiment  against  regiment,  sent  the  stout  Midlanders 
of  the  64th  and  the  hot-blooded  Gaels  from  the 
clachans  and  glens  and  loch  sides  of  Ross-shire, 
forward  in  one  racing  charge  that  carried  guns  and 
village  without  a  check. 

The  battle  seemed  won,  and  Havelock,  reforming 
his  column,  moved  steadily  forward.  But  the  Nana 
was  playing  his  last  card,  and  his  generals  at  least 


CAWNPOKE  :   THE   MURDER   GHAUT         I  3  5 

sliowecl  desperate  courage.  They  made  a  tliird  stand 
athwart  the  Cawnpore  road,  and  within  a  short  dis- 
tance of  Cawnpore  itself.  A  24-pounder,  flanked  on 
either  side  by  guns  of  lighter  calibre,  covered  the 
Nana's  front,  and  his  infantry,  a  solid  mass,  was 
drawn  up  behind  the  guns.  Havelock's  men  had 
marched  twenty  miles,  and  made  a  dozen  desperate 
charges.  Their  guns  were  far  in  the  rear.  Yet  to 
halt  was  to  be  destroyed. 

Havelock  allowed  his  men  to  fling  themselves 
panting  on  the  ground  for  a  fcAV  minutes ;  then, 
riding  to  the  front,  and  turning  his  back  to  the 
enemy's  guns,  so  as  to  face  the  men,  he  cried  in  his 
keen,  high-pitched  voice,  "  The  longer  you  look  at  it, 
men,  the  less  you  will  like  it !  The  brigade  will 
advance — left  battalion  leading." 

The  left  battalion  was  the  64th.  Major  Stirling 
promptly  brought  forward  his  leading  files,  and 
Havelock's  son  and  aide-de-camp  galloped  down, 
and,  riding  beside  Stirling,  shared  with  him  the 
leadership  of  the  charge — a  circumstance  for  which 
the  64th,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  scarcely  forgave  him, 
as  they  wanted  no  better  leadership  than  that  of 
their  own  major.  There  was  less  of  elan  and  dash 
about  this  charge  than  in  the  earlier  charges  of  the 
day ;  but  in  steady  valour  it  was  unsurpassed. 

On  came  the  64th,  silently  and  coolly.  Havelock 
himself,  in  a  letter  to  his  wife,  wrote  with  a  father's 
pride  about  his  son.    "  I  never  saw  so  brave  a  youth," 


136    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

he  wrote,  "  as  the  boy  Harry  :  he  placed  himself 
opposite  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  that  was  scattering 
death  into  the  ranks  of  the  64th  Queen's,  and  led 
on  the  regiment  under  a  shower  of  grape  to  its 
capture.  This  finished  the  fight.  The  grape  was 
deadly,  but  he  calm,  as  if  telling  George  stories  about 
India." 

When  the  steady  but  shot-tormented  line  of  the 
64th  found  itself  so  near  the  battery  that  through 
the  whirling  smoke  they  could  see  the  toiling  gunners 
and  the  gleam  of  Sepoy  bayonets  beyond  them,  then 
the  British  soldiers  made  their  leap.  With  a  shout 
they  charged  on  and  over  the  guns,  and  through  the 
lines  behind,  and  Nana  Sahib  s  force  was  utterly  and 
finally  crushed.  Havelock  had  not  a  sabre  to  launch 
on  the  flying  foe ;  but  his  tired  infantry,  who  had 
marched  twenty  miles,  and  fought  without  pause 
for  four  hours,  kept  up  the  pursuit  till  the  outer 
edge  of  Cawnpore  was  reached.  Then  Havelock 
halted  them  ;  and,  piling  arms,  the  exhausted  sol- 
diers dropped  in  sections  where  they  stood,  falling 
asleep  on  the  bare  ground,  careless  of  food  or  tents. 

They  were  aroused  long  before  daybreak,  and 
through  their  ranks  ran  in  whispers  the  story,  grim 
and  terrible,  of  the  massacre  which,  by  only  a  few 
hours,  had  cheated  their  splendid  valour  of  its 
reward. 

How  great  was  the  valour,  how  stubborn  the  en- 
durance, shown  thus  far  by  Havelock's  men  is  not 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER    GHAUT         I  3  7 

easily  realised.  In  nine  days — betwixt  July  7-16 
—  tliey  had,  to  quote  their  commander's  words 
"marched  under  the  Indian  sun  of  July  126  miles, 
and  fought  four  actions."  What  better  proof  of 
hardihood,  valour,  and  discipline  could  be  imagined  ? 
But  the  British  soldier  is  a  queer  compound,  with 
very  sudden  and  surprising  alternations  of  virtue. 
When  Cawnpore  was  won  and  plundered,  immense 
stores  of  beer  and  spirits  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
soldiers,  and  for  a  time  it  seemed  as  if  Havelock's 
band  of  heroes  would  dissolve  into  a  mere  ii-'noble 
gang  of  drunkards.  Havelock  promptly  ordered 
every  drinkable  thing  in  Cawnpore  to  be  bought 
or  seized.  "  If  I  had  not  done  this,"  he  wrote,  "  it 
would  have  required  one  half  my  force  to  keep  the 
other  half  sober,  and  I  should  not  have  had  a  soldier 
in  camp ! " 

Whether  the  terror  of  Havelock's  advance  on 
Cawnpore  actually  caused  the  massacre  of  the  Eng- 
lish captives  there  may  be  doubted ;  it  certainly 
hastened  it.  Nana  Sahib,  to  whom  murder  was  a 
luxury,  would  no  more  have  spared  the  women  and 
the  children  than  a  tiger  would  spare  a  lamb  lying 
under  its  paw.  But  even  a  tiger  has  its  lazy  moods, 
and,  say,  immediately  after  a  full  meal,  is  temporarily 
careless  about  fresh  slaughter.  Nana  Sahib  had 
supped  full  of  cruelty,  and  was  disposed,  for  a  brief 
period  at  all  events,  to  allow  his  captives  to  live. 
Moreover,  some  of  the  Avomen  in  his  own  harem  sent 


138    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

him  word  they  would  slay  themselves  and  their 
children  if  he  murdered  the  memsahibs  and  their 
little  ones.  But  on  the  night  of  July  15  the 
fugitives  from  Pandoo  Nuddee  reached  Cawnpore, 
amongst  them  being  Bala  Rao,  the  Nana's  brother 
and  general,  who  brought  from  the  fight  a  bullet 
in  his  shoulder,  and  a  new  argument  for  murder 
in  his  heart. 

In  a  council  held  between  the  Nana  and  his  chief 
officials  that  night,  the  fate  of  the  captives  was  dis- 
cussed. Teeka  Sing  understood  British  nature  so  ill 
that  he  aro^ued  Havelock's  men  would  be  robbed 
of  their  only  motive  for  continuing  their  advance 
on  Cawnpore  if  the  captives  were  slain.  They  might, 
he  urged,  risk  the  perils  of  a  new  battle  for  the 
sake  of  rescuing  the  captives,  but  not  for  the  mere 
pleasure  of  burying  them.  That  they  might  have 
the  passion  to  avenge  them  did  not  enter  into  Teeka 
Sing's  somewhat  limited  intelligence.  Other  chiefs 
argued,  again,  that"  if  the  captives  were  allowed  to 
live,  they  might  prove  very  inconvenient  witnesses 
against  a  good  many  people. 

It  is  probable  that  the  strongest  argument  on  the 
side  of  murder  was  the  mere  joy  of  killing  somebody 
with  a  white  face.  Havelock's  Fusileers  and  High- 
landers declined  to  allow  themselves  to  be  killed; 
they  were,  in  fact,  slaying  the  Nana's  Sepoys  with 
disconcerting  fury  and  despatch.  But  the  heroes 
who  had  fled  again  and  again  before  a  British  force 


CAWNPORE  :   THE   MUEDER   GHAUT         I  39 

one-fifth  their  number,  could  revenge  tliemselves  in 
perfect  security  by  slaying  the  helpless  women  and 
children  imprisoned  in  the  Bebeeghur.  So  the  order 
for  massacre  went  forth. 

From  July  i  the  captives,  210  in  number,  had 
been  crowded  into  a  small  building  containing  two 
rooms,  each  20  ft.  by  10  ft.,  and  an  open  court  some 
fifteen  yards  square.  In  that  suffering  and  helpless 
crowd  were  five  men,  guessed  to  have  been  Colonels 
Smith  and  Goldie,  Mr.  Thornhill,  the  judge  of  Futte- 
ghur,  and  two  others.  They  had  neither  furniture 
nor  bedding,  nor  even  straw,  and  were  fed  daily  on 
a  scanty  ration  of  native  bread  and  milk.  Two  of 
the  ladies  were  taken  across  each  morning  to  the 
Nana's  stables,  and  made  to  grind  corn  at  a  hand- 
mill  for  hours  together.  This  was  done,  not  for  the 
sake  of  the  scanty  store  of  flour  the  poor  captives 
ground  out,  but  by  way  of  insult.  To  the  Eastern 
imagination,  when  a  dead  enemy's  womankind  grind 
corn  in  the  house  of  his  slayer,  captivity  has  reached 
its  blackest  depths.  The  English  ladies,  according 
to  native  testimony,  did  not  object  to  do  the  work 
of  slaves  in  this  fashion,  as  it,  at  least,  enabled  them 
to  carry  back  a  handful  of  flour  to  their  hungry 
little  ones. 

Sickness  mercifully  broke  out  amongst  the  cap- 
tives, and  in  a  week  eighteen  women  and  seven 
children  died.  A  native  doctor  kept  a  list  of  these, 
and  after  Havelock  captured  Cawnpore  the  list  was 


I40   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

discovered.  Months  afterwards  there  was  sad  joy  in 
many  an  EngUsh  household  when,  on  the  evidence  of 
this  list,  it  was  known  that  their  loved  ones  had,  in 
this  way,  anticipated  and  escaped  the  Nana's  venge- 
ance. One  poor  wife,  in  the  sadness  of  that  captivity, 
gave  birth  to  a  little  one,  and  in  the  native  doctor's 
list  of  deaths  is  the  pathetic  record — a  tragedy  in 
each  syllable — "  An  infant  two  days  old." 

The  evidence  seems  to  show  that  during  these 
terrible  days  the  women  were  not  exposed  to 
outrage  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  that  word,  or  to 
mutilation,  but  every  indignity  and  horror  which 
the  Hindu  imagination  could  plan  short  of  that 
was  emptied  upon  them,  and  some  of  the  younger 
women,  at  least,  were  carried  off  to  the  harems  of 
one  or  other  of  the  Nana's  generals.  On  the  face 
of  the  earth  there  could  have  been  at  the  time  no 
other  scene  of  anguish  resembling  that  in  the  crowded 
and  darkened  rooms  of  the  Bebeeghur,  where  so  great 
a  company  of  women  and  children,  forsaken  of  hope, 
with  the  death  of  all  their  dearest  behind  them,  sat 
waiting  for  death  themselves. 

Nana  Sahib  was  an  epicure  in  cruelty,  and  was 
disposed  to  take  his  murders  in  dainty  and  lingering 
instalments.  At  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of 
July  15  he  sent  over  some  of  his  officers  to  the 
Bebeeghur,  and  bade  the  Englishmen  come  forth. 
They  came  out,  the  two  colonels,  the  judge,  a 
merchant  named  Greenaway,  and  his  son,  and  with 


CAWNPORE  :   THE    MURDER   GHAUT         141 

them  a  sixth,  an  Enghsh  boy,  fourteen  years  of 
age,  nameless  now,  but  apparently  willing  to  share 
the  perilous  responsibilities  of  ''  being  a  man."  Poor 
lad  !  Motherless,  his  name  all  unknown,  his  father, 
perhaps,  floating  a  disfigured  corpse  on  the  sliding 
current  of  the  muddy  Ganges,  he  appears  for  a 
moment,  a  slender,  boyish  figure,  in  the  living 
frescoes  of  that  grim  tragedy,  and  then  vanishes. 

Under  the  cool  shade  of  a  lime  tree  sat  Nana 
Sahib,  dark  of  face,  gaudy  of  dress,  and  round  him 
a  cluster  of  his  kinsmen  and  ofiicers,  Bala  Rao 
among  them,  whose  wounded  shoulder  was  now  to 
be  avenged.  Brief  ceremony  Avas  shown  to  this 
little  cluster  of  haggard  and  ragged  sahibs.  A 
grim  nod  from  the  Nana,  a  disorderly  line  of 
Sepoys  with  levelled  muskets  and  retracted  lips, 
and  the  six  were  shot  down  and  their  bodies  cast 
on  the  dusty  roadside  for  every  passer-by  to  spit  at. 

A  little  before  five  o'clock  a  woman  from  the 
Nana's  household  stepped  inside  the  door  of  the 
Bebeeghur,  and  looked  over  the  crowd  of  weary 
mothers  and  wan-faced  children.  A  curious  still- 
ness fell  on  the  little  company,  while,  in  careless 
accents,  the  woman  gave  the  dreadful  order :  they 
were  "  all  to  be  killed  "  !  One  English  lady,  with 
quiet  courage,  stepped  up  to  the  native  officer  who 
commanded  the  guard,  and  asked  "  if  it  was  true 
they  were  all  to  be  murdered."  Even  the  Sepo3^s 
shrank  from  a  crime  so  strange  and  wanton.     The 


142    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

officer  bade  the  Englisliwomen  not  to  be  afraid, 
and  the  woman  from  the  Nana's  harem  was  told 
roughly  by  the  soldiers  that  her  orders  ivould  not 
be  obeyed. 

It  seemed  monstrous  indeed  that  an  order  which 
was  to  send  200  helpless  human  beings  to  death 
should  be  brought,  like  a  message  about  some 
domestic  trifle,  on  a  servant-woman's  lips.  The 
messenger  vanished.  The  Sepoys  on  guard  con- 
sulted together  and  agreed  that  with  their  own 
hands,  at  least,  they  would  not  slay  the  prisoners. 
According  to  one  account  they  were  ordered  by  a 
new  messenger  to  fire  through  the  windows  upon  the 
company  of  women  and  children,  many  now  praying 
within.  They  obeyed  the  order  to  fire,  and  the 
sudden  wave  of  flame  and  smoke,  with  the  crash 
of  twenty  discharged  muskets,  swept  over  the  heads 
of  the  captive  crowd  within.  But  the  Sepoys,  of 
design,  fired  high,  and  no  one  was  wounded. 

When  Havelock's  men  afterwards  entered  those 
rooms,  one  little  detail  bore  mute  witness  to  the 
use  to  which  some  of  the  ladies  had  turned  the 
few  minutes  which  followed  the  volley  of  the  Se23oys. 
They  evidently  tore  strips  from  their  dresses,  and 
with  them  tried  to  tie  the  door  fast ;  and  still  those 
broken  strips  of  linen  and  silk  were  hanging  from 
the  door  handles  when  Havelock's  men,  two  days 
afterwards,  entered  Cawnpore. 

Crime  never  wants  instruments,  and  Nana  Sahib 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER    GHAUT         1 43 

soon  found  scoundrels  willing  to  carry  out  liis  orders. 
It  Avas  a  little  after  five  o'clock — -just  when  Stephen- 
son's Fusileers  and  Hamilton's  Highlanders  were 
sweeping  over  the  bridge  at  Pandoo  Nuddee — that 
five  men,  each  carrying  a  tulwar,  walked  to  the  door 
of  the  Bebeeghur.  Two  were  rough  peasants;  two 
belonged  to  the  butcher's  caste;  one  wore  the  red 
uniform  of  the  Nana's  bodyguard.  The  five  men 
entered,  and  the  shuddering  crowd  of  women  and 
children  was  before  them.  The  crowd,  who  watched 
as  the  door  opened,  saw  standing  erect  on  the  thresh- 
old the  English  lady  who  had  asked  the  native 
officer  whether  they  Avere  all  to  be  killed.  Then  the 
door  was  closed,  and  over  the  scene  that  followed  the 
horrified  imagination  refuses  to  linger. 

Wailing,  broken  shrieks,  the  sound  of  running  feet 
crept  out  on  the  shuddering  air.  Presently  the  door 
opened,  and  the  man  in  the  red  uniform  of  the  Nana's 
bodyguard  came  out  with  his  sword  broken  short  off 
at  the  hilt.  There  were  212  to  be  killed,  and  the 
strain  on  steel  blades  as  well  as  on  human  Miuscles 
was  severe ! 

He  borrowed  a  fresh  sword,  and  went  back  to  his 
work,  again  carefully  closing  the  door  behind  him. 
After  a  while  he  re-emerged  once  more  with  a  broken 
blade,  and,  arming  himself  afresh,  returned  a  third 
time  to  his  dreadful  business.  It  was  dark  when  the 
live  men — all  alike  now  with  reddened  garments — 
came  out  and  locked  the  door  behind  them,  leaving 


144    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY  ; 

that  great  company  of  wives  and  mothers  and  little  i 

children  in  the  slauo^hter-house.     The  men  had  done  ! 

their  work  but  roughly,  and  all  through  the  night,  i 

though  no    cry  was   heard   in   the   Bebeeghur,   yet  I 

sounds,  as  if  sighs  from  dying  lips,  and  the  rustle  as 
of  struggling  bodies,  seemed  to  creep  out  into  the  I 

darkness  incessantly  through  its  sullen  windows  and  , 

hard-shut  doors. 

At  eis'lit  o'clock  the  next  mornins:  the  five  men  ! 

returned,  attended  by  a  few  sweepers.     They  opened  i 

the  door,  and  commenced  to  drag  the  nearer  bodies,  i 

by  their  long  tresses  of  hair,  across  the  courtyard  to  i 

the  fatal  well,  hard  by.     Then,  amongst  the  bodies  ' 

lying  prone  over  all  the  floor,  there  was  a  sudden 
stir  of  living  things.  Were  the  dead  coming  back  to 
life  ?  i 

Native  evidence,  collected  afterwards,  reports  that  i 

a  few  children  and  nearly  a  dozen  women  had  con- 
trived to  escape  death  by  hiding  under  the  bodies  of 
the  slain.     They  had  lain  in  that  dreadful  conceal-  ' 

ment  all  night,  but  when  the  five  returned  they  crept  , 

out  with   pitiful  cries.      Some  of  these  were  slain  \ 

without  parley ;  some  ran  like  hunted  animals  round  I 

the  courtyard,  and  then  threw  themselves  down  the  | 

well.  One  by  one  the  victims  were  dragged  out, 
stripped,  and,  many  of  them  yet  living,  were  flung 
into  that  dreadful  grave. 

One   native   witness,   quoted   by  Trevelyan,   says, 
"  There  was  a  great  crowd  looking  on ;    they  were 


CAWNPOKE  :    THE    MURDER    GHAUT         1 45 

standing  along  the  walls  of  the  compound.  They 
were  principally  city  people  and  villagers.  Yes,  there 
were  also  Sepoys.  Three  boys  were  alive.  They  were 
fair  children.  The  eldest,  I  think,  must  have  been 
six  or  seven,  and  the  youngest  five  years.  They 
were  running  round  the  well  (where  else  could  they 
go  to  ?),  and  there  was  none  to  save  them.  No, 
none  said  a  word,  or  tried  to  save  them."  The 
youngest  of  these  children,  a  tender  little  fellow, 
lunatic  with  terror,  broke  loose  and  ran  like  a  hare 
across  the  courtyard.  He  was  captured  by  an  un- 
sympathetic spectator,  brought  back,  and  flung  doA\Ti 
the  well. 

It  was  two  days  after  this,  on  July  17,  that  three 
men  of  the  78th  entered  the  court,  for  Havelock  w^as 
now  in  possession  of  Cawnpore,  and  the  Nana  was  a 
fugitive.  The  whispers  and  gestures  of  the  natives 
drew  their  attention  to  the  shut  door  of  the  bun- 
galow. One  of  the  Highlanders  pushed  open  the 
door  and  stepped  inside.  "  The  next  moment,"  to 
quote  Archibald  Forbes,  "he  came  rushing  out,  his 
face  ghastly,  his  hands  working  convulsively,  his 
whole  aspect,  as  he  strove  in  vain  to  gasp  out  some 
articulate  sounds,  showing  that  he  had  seen  some 
dreadful  sight."  No  living  thing  was  in  the  place; 
but  the  matting  that  covered  the  floor  was  one  great 
sponge  of  blood,  and  he  who  had  crossed  it  found 
himself,  to  borrow  Burns's  phrase,  "  red  wat  shod." 

Little  pools  of  blood  filled  up  each  inequality  in 


146         THE   TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

the  rough  floor.  It  was  strewn  with  pitiful  relics, 
broken  combs,  pinafores,  children's  shoes,  little  hats, 
the  leaves  of  books,  fragments  of  letters.  The  plas- 
tered wall  was  hacked  with  sword-cuts,  "  not  high  u|), 
as  where  men  had  fought,  but  Ioav  down  and  about 
the  corners,  as  if  a  creature  had  crouched  to  avoid  a 
blow."  Long  locks  of  hair  were  strewn  about,  severed, 
but  not  with  scissors. 

There  were  no  inscriptions  on  the  walls,  but  many 
a  pitiful  record  upon  the  scattered  papers  on  the 
floor.  A  few  childish  curls  marked  "  Ned's  hair, 
with  love ; "  the  fly-leaf  of  a  Bible,  with  a  loving 
inscription — giver  and  recipient  now  both  dead ;  a 
prayer-book,  pages  splashed  red  where  once  praying 
eyes  had  lingered.  The  pages  of  one  grimly  appro- 
priate book — Drelincourt's  "  Preparation  for  Death  " 
— were  scattered  over  the  whole  floor. 

To  write  this  story  is  a  distress,  to  read  it  must  be 
well-nigh  an  anguish.  Yet  we  may  well  endure  to 
know  what  our  countrymen  and  countrywomen  have 
suffered.  Their  sufferings  are  part  of  the  price  at 
which  a  great  empire  has  been  built. 

Into  what  a  passion  of  fury — half  generous,  half 
devilish — the  soldiers  who  looked  on  these  things 
were  kindled  may  well  be  imagined.  It  will  be  re- 
membered that  Neill  compelled  some  of  the  Sepoys 
captured  at  Cawnpore,  and  guilty  of  a  share  in  this 
tragedy — high-caste  Brahmins — to  clean  up,  under 


CAWNPORE  :    THE    MURDER   GHAUT         1 47 

the  whip,  a  few  square  inches  of  the  blood-stained 
floor,  and  then  immediately  hanged  them,  burying 
them  in  a  ditch  afterwards.  These  Brahmins,  that 
is,  were  first  ceremonially  defiled,  and  then  exe- 
cuted. That  was  an  inhumanity  unworthy  of  the 
English  name,  which  Lord  Clyde  promptly  forbade. 

Nana  Sahib  had  fled  the  palace.  Principality,  and 
power,  and  wealth,  all  had  vanished.  He  was,  like 
Cain,  a  fugitive  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  In  what 
disguises  he  hid  himself,  through  what  remote  and 
lonely  regions  he  wandered,  Avhere  he  died,  or  how, 
no  man  knows.  His  name  has  become  an  execration, 
his  memory  a  horror. 

The  Bebeeghur  has  disappeared.  The  site  where 
it  once  stood  is  now  a  beautiful  garden.  In  the 
centre  of  the  garden,  circled  with  a  fringe  of  ever- 
sighing  cypresses,  is  a  low  mound,  with  fence  of  open 
stonework.  The  circular  space  within  is  sunken,  and 
upon  the  centre  of  the  sunken  floor  rises  the  figure — 
not  too  artistic,  unhappily — of  an  angel  in  marble,  with 
clasped  hands  and  outspread  wings.  On  the  pedestal 
runs  the  inscription :  "  Sacred  to  the  perpetual 
memory  of  the  great  company  of  Christian  people, 
chiefly  women  and  children,  who,  near  this  spot,  were 
cruelly  massacred  by  the  followers  of  the  rebel  Nana 
Doondoo  Punth,  of  Bithoor,  and  cast,  the  dying  and 
the  dead,  into  the  well  below,  on  the  15  th  day  of 
July  1857." 


CHAPTER  YI 

LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE 

And  ever  upon  tlie  topmost  roof  our  banner  of  England  flew. 

— Tennyson. 

ON  tlie  night  of  May  30,  1857,  the  steps  of  the 
Residency  at  Lucknow  witnessed  a  strange 
sight.  On  the  uppermost  steps  stood  a  group  of 
British  officers  in  uniform.  Sir  Henry  Lawrence  was 
there,  with  his  staff;  Banks,  the  chief  commissioner; 
Colonel  Inglis,  of  the  32nd.  The  glare  of  a  flaming 
house  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  distant  threw  on  the 
group  a  light  as  intense  almost  as  noonday.  Forty 
paces  in  front  of  the  group  stood  a  long  line  of 
Sepoys  loading  in  swift  silence.  The  light  of  the 
flames  played  redly  on  their  dark  faces,  on  their 
muskets  brought  quickly  into  position  for  capping. 
For  weeks  the  great  city  had  been  trembling  on  the 
verge  of  revolt,  and  an  officer  of  his  staff  had  brought 
Lawrence  news  that  gun-fire  that  night,  nine  o'clock, 
was  to  be  the  sisfnal  for  the  outbreak. 

Lawrence  had  taken  all  human  precautions,  and 
was  familiar  with  such  warnings  as  that  now  brought 
to  him,  and  he  sat  down  with  his  staff  to  dinner  with 

iron  composure.   At  nine  o'clock  there  rolled  through 

148 


SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE 


Reproduced  by  permission  i7/"SiR  Henry  Waldemak  LA\VKENCE,y>vw  a  dra-Ming 

in  his  possession 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE      1 49 

the  sultry  darkness  the  sound  of  a  gun,  and  silence 
fell  for  a  moment  on  the  dinner  party.  Nothing 
followed  the  roar  of  the  gun.  Lawrence  leaned 
forward  with  a  smile  on  his  face,  and  said  to  the 
officer  who  brought  the  news,  "  Your  friends  are 
not  punctual." 

At  that  moment  there  rose  in  sharp  succession  on 
the  still  night  air  the  crack  of  a  dozen  muskets. 
Then  came  the  sound  of  running  feet,  the  confused 
shouts  of  a  crowd.     The  Mutiny  had  come  ! 

Lawrence,  without  a  change  of  countenance,  or- 
dered the  horses,  waiting  ready  saddled,  to  be  brought 
round,  and,  followed  by  his  staff,  went  out  on  to  the 
Residency  steps  to  wait  for  them.  As  they  stood 
there  red  flames  were  breaking  out  at  a  score  of 
points  in  the  black  mass  of  houses  on  which  they 
looked.  The  air  was  full  of  tumult.  An  English 
bungalow  only  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  distant 
broke  into  flame,  showing  how  near  the  mutineers 
were. 

At  that  moment,  with  the  tramp  of  disciplined 
feet,  a  body  of  Sepoys  came  running  up  at  the  double 
out  of  the  darkness,  and  swung  into  line  facing  the 
Residency  steps.  It  was  the  native  officer  bringing 
up  the  Residency  guard ;  and,  saluting  Captain 
Wilson,  LaAvrence's  aide-de-camp,  he  asked  "  if  the 
men  should  load."  These  men  were  known  to  be 
disloyal ;  before  the  morning  dawned,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  they  were  in  open  mutiny.     Ought  they  to  be 


150    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

treated  as  loyal,  and  permitted  to  load  with  the 
entire  British  staff  of  the  city  at  the  muzzles  of  their 
muskets  ?  Wilson  reported  the  native  officer's  ques- 
tion to  Lawrence.  "  Yes,"  said  he  quietly,  "  let  them 
load,"  and  the  group  on  the  Residency  steps  quietly 
watched  while  ramrods  rang  sharply  in  the  musket 
barrels,  and  the  gun-nipples  were  capped.  The  sound 
of  ramrods  falling  on  the  leaden  bullets  was  perfectly 
audible  in  the  hush ;  and,  says  Colonel  Wilson,  "  I 
believe  Sir  Henry  was  the  only  man  of  all  that  group 
whose  heart  did  not  beat  the  quicker  for  it." 

Then  there  came  a  thrilling  pause.  These  men 
had  the  entire  British  staff  at  Lucknow  before  them 
at  point-blank  distance !  A  single  gesture,  a  shout, 
and  that  line  of  muskets  would  have  poured  its 
deadly  fire  upon  the  group  on  the  Residency  steps, 
and  with  the  sound  of  that  one  volley  Lucknow 
must  have  fallen,  and  perhaps  the  course  of  history 
been  changed. 

These  brave  men  standing  there  under  the  very 
shadow  of  death  knew  this,  and  not  a  figure  stirred ! 
Had  there  been  the  least  sign  of  agitation  or  fear, 
perhaps  the  Sepoys  would  have  fired.  But  the  cool, 
steadfast  bearing  of  that  group  of  Englishmen  put  a 
strange  spell  on  the  Sepoys.  Another  moment  of 
intensest  strain,  and  the  native  officer  gave  a  sharp 
word  of  command.  The  magic  of  discipline  pre- 
vailed :  the  men  swuno^  round  and  marched  off  into 
the  darkness.     But  the  fate  of  Lucknow  and  a  thou- 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE      I  5  I 

sand  British  lives  hung  on  those  few  critical  moments. 
It  was  the  haughty,  ice-cold  courage  of  that  heroic 
group  on  the  Residency  steps  which,  for  the  moment, 
averted  a  great  disaster. 

Sir  Henry  Lawrence  is  the  hero  of  the  earlier 
stages  of  the  siege  of  Lucknow,  and  it  is  difficult  to 
imagine  a  loftier  or  more  gallant  character.  Ho 
came  of  that  sturdy,  strong-brained  North  of  Ireland 
stock,  which  has  given  to  the  British  Empire  so  many 
gallant  soldiers  and  famous  administrators,  so  many 
great  engineers  and  captains  of  labour.  Lawrence's 
face,  with  its  long  features,  thin-flowing  beard,  deep- 
set,  meditative,  not  to  say  dreamy  eyes,  and  high 
cheek  bones,  was  an  odd  compound  of,  say,  Don 
Quixote  and  Abraham  Lincoln.  His  valour  was 
"  a  sword  of  Spain,  the  ice-brook's  temper  " ;  but  he 
had  better  qualities  than  even  valour  of  that  fine 
edge.  He  was  an  administrator  of  the  first  order. 
His  intellect  had  in  it  a  curious  penetrating  quality, 
and  perhaps  his  brain  alone  forecast,  in  its  true  scale, 
the  great  Mutiny  which  shook  almost  to  its  fall  the 
British  rule  in  India.  His  courtesy,  his  unselfishness 
his  passionate  scorn  of  injustice,  his  generous  pity 
for  the  oppressed,  gave  a  strange  charm  to  Lawrence's 
character,  while  his  meditative  piety  added  gravity 
and  depth  to  it.  The  whole  interval  between  the 
tragedy  of  Cawnpore  and  the  glory  of  Lucknow  is 
to  be  measured  by  the  single  personality  of  Henry 
Lawrence.      That  he  was  of  a  different  type  from 


I  5  2         THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

Wheeler,  explains  how  Lucknow  escaped  while 
Cawnpore  perished. 

The  two  cities  are  about  forty-five  miles  distant 
from  each  other.  Wheeler  and  Lawrence  had  each 
to  face,  practically,  the  same  situation,  and  with 
resources  not  very  unequal.  Wheeler's  credulous 
faith  in  his  Sepoys  flung  away  the  last  chance  of 
the  ill-fated  British  in  Cawnpore.  It  was  this  which 
made  him  gather  them  within  those  thin  lines  of 
earth,  shelterless  from  shot  or  sunstroke,  and 
without  supplies,  where  no  fate  except  death  or 
surrender  was  possible.  Lawrence,  with  surer  in- 
sight, measured  the  problem  before  him.  He 
chose  wisely  the  spot  where  the  British  must  make 
their  stand  for  existence.  He  gathered  within  the 
lines  he  selected  all  the  treasure  and  warlike  re- 
sources of  the  city,  with  supplies  that  a  siege  of 
five  months  did  not  exhaust.  And  his  splendid 
foresight  and  energy  saved  Lucknow. 

There  is  no  space  to  tell  here  in  detail  the  tale 
of  the  noble  courage  and  energy  with  which  Law- 
rence kept  the  seething  and  turbulent  city  from 
revolt  through  May  and  June.  The  mere  garrison 
figures  of  LucknoAv  show  Lawrence's  position.  He 
had  700  Europeans  on  whom  he  could  rely.  There 
were  7000  Sepoys,  all  potential,  and  highly  probable 
mutineers.  Beyond  this  was  a  great  turbulent  and 
fanatical  city,  with  a  population  of,  say,  700,000,  a 
magazine  waiting  to  explode  at  the  touch  of  a  match. 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE      I  5  3 

The  peril  was  certain  in  its  character,  but  was 
uncertain  in  scale,  and  time,  and  form.  Lawrence 
had  to  arm  himself  against  that  vague,  formless, 
yet  terrific  peril,  without  letting  those  who  watched 
him  closely  and  keenly  discover  that  he  was  con- 
scious of  its  existence.  He  had  to  hide  an  anxious 
brain  behind  a  cheerful  face ;  to  prepare  minutely 
for  swift-coming  and  desperate  war,  while  wearing 
the  dress,  and  talking  the  language  of  peace ;  to 
turn  a  hospitable  Residency  into  a  fortress ;  and 
yet  keep  open  doors  and  an  open  table.  And  he 
did  it  all  !  When,  the  morning  after  Chinhut,  the 
Residency  was  closely  and  furiously  besieged,  it 
was  found  to  be  provisioned,  organised,  and  armed 
for  a  stern  and  obstinate  and,  in  the  end,  successful 
defence ! 

Lawrence  read  the  whole  position  of  affairs  so 
truly  that  his  forecast  of  events  has  in  it  a  gleam 
of  something  like  prophecy,  or  of  magic.  "  He  told 
me,"  says  Colonel  Wilson,  "  that  nearly  the  whole 
army  would  go,  but  not,  he  thought,  the  Sikhs ; 
that  in  every  native  regiment  there  was  a  residuum 
of  loyal  Sepoys,  and  he  meant,  if  possible,  to  retain 
these — as  he  actually  did.  If  Cawnpore  held  out, 
Lucknow  would  be  unassailed ;  but  if  Cawnpore 
fell,  Lucknow  would  be  hard  pressed,  and  no  succour 
could  reach  the  city  before  the  middle  of  August ; 
that  the  outbreak  would  remain  a  revolt  of  the 
Sepoys,  and  not  a  rising  of  the  people." 


154    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Lawrence's  own  policy,  meanwhile,  was  to  figlit 
for  time.  Every  hour  the  Mutiny  could  be  post- 
poned lessened  its  chances  of  success.  "  Time,"  he 
writes  in  his  diary  on  May  i8,  "is  everything  just 
now ;  time,  firmness,  promptness,  conciliation,  pru- 
dence." But  Lawrence  had  many  difficulties  in  carry- 
ing out  that  wise  policy,  some  of  them  created  by 
the  divided  judgments  of  his  own  staff.  Mr.  Gubbins, 
the  financial  commissioner,  in  particular,  vehemently 
mistrusted  Lawrence's  mild  handling  of  the  Sepoys. 
Gubbins  was  clever,  audacious,  quick-witted,  fatally 
over-quick,  perhaps,  in  judgment,  with  a  gift  for 
giving  advice  in  confident — not  to  say  imperious — 
accents,  which  his  official  superiors  found  somewhat 
trying.  He  valued  his  own  advice,  too,  so  highly 
that  he  could  not  forgive  the  dulness  in  his 
superiors  which  failed  to  discern  its  excellence,  or 
the  hesitation  which  lingered  in  putting  it  into 
practice.  He  was  perpetually  urging  Lawrence  to 
disarm  and  expel  all  the  native  troops  in  Luck- 
now.  Yet  Lawrence's  milder  policy  was  justified  by 
events.  Some  seven  hundred  Sepoys  remained  true  to 
their  salt,  and  served  through  the  great  siege  with 
a  devotion  and  a  courage  beyond  praise.  "Neither 
temptation  nor  threats  from  their  comrades  with- 
out," says  Fayrer,  "  or  hardships  and  privation 
within,  could  induce  them  to  desert.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  history  of  the  Sepoy  army  more 
creditable  or  honourable  than  their  behaviour." 


LUCKNOW    AND   SIR   HENRY   LAWRENCE      155 

Lawrence  had  otlier  troubles  with  the  Europeans 
in  Lucknow.  An  indiscreet  editor  in  Lucknow  pub- 
lished some  alarmist  articles  of  a  singularly  mis- 
chievous character,  and  Lawrence  sent  for  him,  and 
warned  him  that,  if  he  continued  to  write  in  a  fashion 
calculated  to  provoke  mutiny,  he  would  suppress  his 
paper.  But  Lawrence  knew  human  nature  too  well 
to  believe  that  mere  threats  would  keep  a  foolish 
editor  from  committing  folly.  A  few  days  after- 
wards, happening  to  ride  by  the  newspaper  office,  he 
suddenly  drew  rein,  and  said  to  his  staff,  "  Let  us  go 

in  and  edit  the  paper  for  Mr.  ."     He  entered, 

said  to  the  astonished  editor,  "  Mr. ,  to  show  you 

I  bear  no  ill-will,  I  am  come  to  write  you  a  leading 
article ; "  and,  sitting  down,  dashed  off  an  article  ex- 
pounding the  resources  of  the  Government  for  meet- 
ing and  putting  down  a  revolt.  The  article  acted  as 
a  tonic  on  native  and  European  opinion  in  the  city ; 
but  it  also  captured  the  editor. 

Lawrence  had  not  a  very  keen  sense  of  humour, 
but  occasionally  humour — of  a  grim  sort — broke  out 
from  him.  A  Hindu  of  some  rank  advised  that  a 
number  of  monkeys  should  be  collected  in  the 
Eesidency,  and  be  attended  and  fed  by  high-caste 
Brahmins.  This  would  ensure  the  favour  of  all  the 
Hindu  divinities,  and  would  make  the  English  popu- 
lar. Lawrence  listened  gravely,  then  said,  "  Your 
advice  is  good.  Come,"  he  said,  rising  and  taking 
his  hat,  "  I  will  show  you  my  monkeys."     He  led  the 


156    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

way  to  a  battery  which  had  just  been  completed; 
and  laying  his  hand  on  an  i8-pounder  gun,  said, 
"  See !  here  is  one  of  my  monkeys.  That " — pointing 
to  a  pile  of  shot — "  is  his  food,  and  this  " — laying  his 
hand  on  the  shoulder  of  a  sentry  of  the  32nd,  who 
stood  at  attention  close  by — "  is  the  man  who  feeds 
them.  Now  go  and  tell  your  friends  of  my 
monkeys  ! " 

The  serene  quality  of  Lawrence's  courage  is  shown 
by  a  letter  he  writes  to  Kaikes  on  May  30 :  "  We  are 
pretty  jolly  .  .  .  but  we  are  in  a  funny  position.  .  .  . 
We  are  virtually  besieging  four  regiments — in  a  quiet 
way — with  300  Europeans.  I  .  .  .  reside  in  canton- 
ments guarded  by  the  gentlemen  we  are  besieging." 
That  very  night,  as  it  happened,  the  outbreak  came ! 

On  the  last  day  of  June  the  disastrous  fight  at 
Chinhut  brought  affairs  at  Lucknow  to  a  crisis.  The 
revolted  regiments  from  Eastern  Oude  were  march- 
ing on  Lucknow,  and  Lawrence,  acting  on  the  one 
principle  of  British  war  in  India — of  striking  and 
never  waiting  to  be  struck — marched  out  to  crush  the 
approaching  mutinous  regiments.  His  little  force 
consisted  of  300  of  the  32nd,  230  more  or  less  loyal 
Sepoys,  36  British  volunteers  on  horseback,  120 
native  cavalry,  and  10  guns,  of  which  six  were 
manned  by  Sepoys.  There  was  grave  doubt  as  to 
how  the  native  artillery  would  behave ;  but  Lawrence 
said,  "  We  must  try  and  '  blood '  them." 

As  it  happened,  Lawrence  was  completely  deceived 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE      I  5  7 

as  to  the  strength  of  the  enemy.  He  reckoned  they 
might  number  5000;  they  were  nearer  15,000,  with 
not  less  than  thirty  guns.  By  some  accident,  too, 
the  32nd  were  marched  out  without  having  broken 
their  fast,  and,  marching  eight  miles  under  the  glare 
of  an  Indian  sun,  were  exhausted  before  they  fired  a 
shot. 

The  day  at  Chinhut,  in  brief,  was  one  of  blunders 
and  disasters.  "  Everything,"  says  Fayrer,  "  was 
against  us."  The  force  started  late,  and  without  ade- 
quate preparation.  The  supplies  of  food  and  water 
never  came  up.  The  men  of  the  32nd  had  to  attack 
when  exhausted  by  heat,  thirst,  and  fatigue,  and  want 
of  food.  The  native  artillerymen  deserted ;  the  Sikh 
cavalry  fled.  The  one  formidable  gun  the  British 
had,  an  8-inch  howitzer,  was  thrown  out  of  action 
owing  to  the  elephant  that  drew  it  taking  fright. 
The  British,  in  addition,  were  badly  armed.  Many 
of  their  muskets  would  not  go  off.  In  the  confusion 
of  the  retreat  an  officer  called  on  a  private  of  the 
32nd  by  name  to  turn  round  and  fire  on  the  enemy. 
"  I  will  do  so,  sir,  if  you  wish,"  said  the  man,  "  but  it's 
no  use !  I  have  snapped  six  caps  already  and  the 
piece  won't  go  off."  The  Sepoys,  as  it  happened, 
were  armed  with  new  and  clean  muskets. 

The  enormous  number  of  the  Sepoys  enabled  them 
to  outflank  the  scanty  British  force,  and  nothing  re- 
mained but  retreat.  There  were  many  individual 
acts  of  gallantry ;  but,  in  broken,  desperately  fight- 


158    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

ing  clusters,  the  32nd  had  to  fall  back,  many  of  the 
men  dropping  from  exhaustion  or  sunstroke  Avhile 
they  tried  to  fight.  An  officer  in  the  battle  has 
described  the  huge  mass  of  the  Sepoys  as  it  pressed 
on  the  flank  of  the  retreating  British.  "  The  plain," 
he  says,  "  was  one  moving  mass  of  men.  Regiment 
after  regiment  of  the  Sepoys  poured  steadily  towards 
us,  the  flanks  covered  with  a  foam  of  skirmishers. 
They  came  on  in  quarter-distance  columns,  the  stan- 
dards waving  in  their  places,  and  everything  per- 
formed as  steadily  as  possible.  A  field-day  on  parade 
could  not  have  been  better."  Under  the  terrihc  fire 
poured  on  their  flank  the  gallant  32nd  simply  melted 
away.  Their  colonel.  Case,  a  splendid  soldier,  fell 
desperately  wounded,  and  one  of  the  officers  ran  to 
assist  him.  "Your  place,"  Case  told  him,  "is  with 
your  men.  Never  mind  me.  Leave  me  to  die,  but 
stand  by  your  men." 

Lawrence  rode,  hat  in  hand,  wherever  the  fire  Avas 
fiercest,  cheering  the  men;  but  again  and  again  he 
wrung  his  hands,  and  was  heard  to  say,  "  My  God !  I 
have  brought  them  to  this  ! "  A  great  body  of  native 
cavalry  was  about  to  charge  down  on  the  clusters  of 
broken  redcoats,  when  the  thirty-six  volunteers  on 
horseback  rode  at  them  with  such  fury  that  the 
whole  hostile  mass  was  broken,  and,  with  its  two 
guns  and  sea  of  glittering  sabres,  was  actually  driven 
oft*  in  flight !  The  retreating  column  had  reached  the 
iron  bridge ;  the  Sepoys,  outnumbering  them  by  hun- 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENBY    LAWRENCE      I  59 

dreds  to  one,  were  pressing  on,  when  Lawrence  saved 
tliem  by  a  flash  of  warHke  genius. 

The  British  gun  ammunition  was  exhausted,  but 
Lawrence  ordered  the  empty  guns  to  be  phmted 
across  the  bridge,  and  the  gunners  to  stand  beside 
them  with  Hghted  port-fires,  and  before  the  menace 
of  those  unloaded  guns  the  Sepoy  pursuit  was 
arrested !  Out  of  his  little  European  force  no  fewer 
than  1 12  men  and  five  officers  of  the  32nd  were  slain. 
The  memory  of  those  gallant  men  poisoned  Henry 
Lawrence's  dying  moments.  He  blamed  himself 
because,  as  he  said,  he  "  had  been  moved  by 
the  fear  of  man  to  undertake  so  hazardous  an 
enterprise." 

How  darkly  that  night  settled  down  on  Lucknow 
may  be  imagined.  The  scene  when  the  broken 
troops,  blackened  with  dust,  staggering  with  ex- 
haustion, bloody  from  wounds,  came  streaming  into 
the  Residency,  was  one  of  the  wildest  confusion. 
It  seemed  as  if  everything  was  lost.  The  victorious 
Sepoys  might  carry  the  Residency  with  one  breath- 
less rush.  "  The  end  of  all  things  seemed  to  have 
come,"  says  Dr.  Fayrer  —  who  was  busy  dressing 
wounds  amid  all  the  tumult.  "  The  j^ooi'  ladies," 
he  adds,  "who,  like  others,  were  anticipating  im- 
mediate death,  were  perfectly  calm,  and  showed 
great  fortitude."  Lady  Ingiis  has  told  how  she 
"  watched  our  poor  soldiers  returning  —  the  most 
mournful  sight.     They  were  straggling   in   by  twos 


l60        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

and  tlirees ;  some  riding,  some  on  guns,  some  sup- 
ported by  their  comrades."  "Almost  every  other 
cavahy  vohmteer,"  says  another  eye-witness,  "was 
encumbered  with  two,  three,  or  even  four  foot- 
soldiers  ;  one  perhaps  holding  his  hand,  another 
laying  fast  hold  on  the  crupper,  or  the  tail  of  the 
horse,  or  the  stirrup,  or  on  all  together." 

Lady  Inglis  tells  the  story  of  how  the  news  of 
Colonel  Case's  death  was  brought  to  his  wife.  "  Mrs. 
Case  came  up  to  me  and  said,  '  Oh,  Mrs.  Inglis,  go  to 
bed.  I  have  just  heard  that  your  husband  and  mine 
are  both  safe.'  I  said,  '  Why,  I  did  not  know  Colonel 
Case  went  out.'  Just  then  John  (Colonel  Inglis) 
came  in.  He  was  crying,  and  after  kissing  me 
turned  to  Mrs.  Case  and  said,  '  Poor  Case  I '  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  cry  of  agony  from  the  poor 
widow." 

It  was  at  a  crisis  like  this  that  the  gallant  and 
masterful  spirit  of  Henry  Lawrence  shone  out.  The 
Sepoys  had  a  saying  that  "  when  Lawrence  Sahib  had 
looked  once  down  to  the  ground,  and  once  up  to  the 
sky,  and  stroked  his  beard,  he  knew  what  to  do." 
He  had,  that  is,  in  an  unrivalled  degree,  the  faculty 
of  seeing  into  the  heart  of  a  difficulty,  and  the  twin 
faculty  of  swift  decision.  The  disaster  of  Chinhut 
had  chansfed  the  whole  situation.  Lawrence  had 
armed  and  garrisoned  a  cluster  of  castellated  build- 
ings, called  the  Mutchee  Bhawan,  about  a  thousand 
yards  from  the  Residency,  for  the  purpose  of  over- 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIK    HENRY    LAWRENCE      l6l 

awing  the  city.  But  his  losses  at  Chinhut  made  it 
difficult  to  hold  the  Residency,  and  impossible  to 
hold  both  the  Residency  and  the  Mutchee  Bhawan ; 
and  on  the  morning  of  July  i,  from  a  rough  sema- 
phore on  the  roof  of  the  Residency,  a  message  was 
signalled  to  the  Mutchee  Bhawan,  "  Retire  to-night  at 
twelve.     Blow  up  well." 

Colonel  Palmer,  of  the  48th  Native  Infantry,  was 
in  command  at  the  Mutchee  Bhawan ;  he  called  his 
officers  together,  and  laid  his  plans  with  perfect  skill 
and  coolness.  There  was  a  magazine  consisting  of 
250  barrels  of  gunpowder  and  nearly  1,000,000  cart- 
ridges ;  these  were  put  together  in  a  huge  pile ;  every 
gun  that  could  not  be  carried  off  was  spiked,  and  at 
midnight  the  garrison  filed  silently  out,  and  the  fuse 
was  lighted.  The  garrison  reached  the  Residency 
gate  Avithout  meeting  an  enemy,  and  just  as  the  last 
man  entered,  with  a  shock  as  of  an  earthquake  and  a 
flame  that  for  a  moment  lit  up  half  the  city,  Mutchee 
Bhawan  blew  up.  It  turned  out  that  a  private  of  the 
32nd  was  left  drunk  and  sound  asleep  in  the  building. 
He  was  blown  up,  of  course,  but  the  next  morning 
was  standing,  stark  naked,  hammering  at  the  Resi- 
dency gate,  shouting,  "  Arrah,  then,  open  your 

gates!" 

Lawrence  had  thus  concentrated  all  his  force  within 
the  lines  of  that  scanty  patch  of  soil  which  w^as  to 
witness  a  defence  as  heroic  and  stubborn  as  that  of 
Saragossa  against  the  French,  or  of  Jerusalem  against 

L 


1 62    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

the  Komans;  and  which  for  the  next  eighty-eight 
days  —  till  Havelock's  Highlanders,  that  is,  with 
blackened  faces  and  crimsoned  bayonets  came 
streaming  through  the  Bailey  Guard  —  was  to  be 
ringed  with  the  fire  of  hostile  guns. 

What  was  called  the  Residency  was  really  an  irre- 
gular cluster  of  houses  and  gardens,  covering  an  area 
of  about  thirty-three  acres,  looking  down  from  a 
slight  ridge  upon  the  river  Goomtee.  In  the  centre 
stood  the  Residency  itself,  a  lofty  three-storeyed  build- 
ing with  many  windows  and  wide-circling  verandahs : 
a  spacious  and  comfortable  residence,  but  singularly 
ill  adapted  for  the  purposes  of  war.  The  houses  and 
gardens  around  it  had  been  woven  together  with 
trenches  and  earthworks,  with  light  batteries  sprinkled 
at  regular  intervals  on  each  front,  and  the  external 
walls  of  the  houses  along  the  outer  fronts  were  pierced 
with  loopholes.  But  in  the  whole  position  there  was 
not  a  defence  anywhere  that  could  resist  artillery  fire. 

The  whole  position  formed  a  rough,  irregular  pen- 
tagon. What  may  be  called  the  northern  front  looked 
down  a  gentle  slope,  and  across  a  line  of  native  shops 
called  the  Captan  Bazaar,  to  the  river,  the  north- 
western angle  being  prolonged,  like  the  horn  of  a 
rhinoceros,  to  include  a  little  point  of  rising  ground 
occupied  by  a  residence  known  as  Innes's  house. 

The  exterior  defence  was  divided  into  seventeen 
posts,  each  post  having  its  commandant  and  its  tiny 
garrison  of  soldiers    or   of  civilians,  or  of  the  few 


LUCKNOW    AND   SIR   HENRY   LAWRENCE      1 63 

Sepoys  still  faithful  to  their  salt.  And  each  post  had 
to  fight,  like  Hal  o'  the  Wynd,  for  "  its  ain  hand  " ; 
to  dig  its  own  trenches,  drive  its  own  mines,  make 
sorties  on  its  own  account,  and  repel  assaults  with  its 
own  muskets  and  bayonets  as  best  it  could.  One 
man  from  each  post  was  detailed  to  fetch  each  morn- 
ing provisions  for  the  day,  but,  for  the  rest,  the  little 
cluster  of  smoke-blackened  heroes  held  their  post 
with  desperate  valour  on  their  own  account,  and 
without  communication  with  any  other  post.  There 
were  no  reliefs.  Every  man  was  on  continuous  duty 
day  and  night,  and  if  he  cast  himself  down  for  a  brief 
and  broken  slumber,  it  was  with  his  musket  by  his 
side,  and  without  undressing. 

Innes's  post,  at  the  extreme  north-west  angle,  was 
commanded  by  Lieutenant  Loughnan  with  a  little 
garrison  of  clerks  and  men  of  the  32nd.  Next  came 
a  stretch  of  earthworks  called  the  North  Curtain, 
under  Colonel  Palmer.  The  Redan,  a  projecting 
battery  of  three  guns,  was  held  by  Lieutenant  Law- 
rence, of  the  32nd,  with  a  few  men  of  his  regiment. 
The  hospital,  an  unsheltered  post,  was  held  by  Lieu- 
tenant Langmore;  the  Bailey  Guard  adjoining  it  by 
Lieutenant  Aitken,  with  some  Sepoys  of  the  13th 
Native  Infantry.  The  post  was  armed  with  two 
9-pounders  and  a  howitzer,  and  the  Sepoys  regarded 
the  tiny  battery  entrusted  to  them  with  peculiar  pride. 

Following  down  the  east  face.  Dr.  Fayrer's  house 
was  held  by  Captain  Weston,  with  some  Sepoy  pen- 


164    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

sioners;  Sago's  house  was  in  charge  of  Lieutenant 
Clery,  of  the  32nd,  with  some  men  of  that  regiment. 
The  Financial  Commissioner's  office  was  held  by 
Captain  Saunders,  with  a  mixed  garrison  of  uncove- 
nanted  clerks  and  men  of  the  32nd;  the  Judicial 
Commissioner's  office,  or  Germon's  post,  as  it  was 
called,  was  in  charge  of  Captain  Germon,  and  a  batch 
of  Sepoys  and  clerks.  Anderson's  garrison — a  two- 
storeyed  house  at  the  south-east  angle  of  the  position 
— was  held  by  Captain  Anderson  and  a  cluster  of  the 
32nd,  and  some  volunteers. 

The  Cawnpore  battery  formed  the  extreme  east  of 
the  southern  face.  This  was  armed  with  three  light 
guns,  and  was  so  completely  under  the  enemy's  fire 
that,  when  that  fire  was  in  full  blast,  no  man  could 
live  beneath  it,  and  the  commander  of  this  post  was 
changed  every  day.  The  Sikhs'  square  formed  the 
western  angle  of  the  south  front,  and  was  held  by 
Captain  Harding,  with  some  Sikh  cavalry.  Gubbins' 
battery  formed  the  southern  extremity  of  the  west 
front ;  it  had  a  mixed  garrison  of  Sepoy  pensioners, 
some  men  of  the  32nd,  and  some  native  levies  raised 
by  Mr.  Gubbins.  The  Racket-court,  the  Slaughter- 
house, the  Sheep-pen,  and  the  Church  formed  the 
defences  of  the  west  front,  and  were  held  chiefly  by 
men  of  the  commissariat  department.  The  Residency 
itself  was  held  by  a  company  of  the  84th,  under  Cap- 
tain Lowe,  as  a  reserve,  though  only  once  during  the 
siege  was  it  called  out. 


LUCKNOW   AND    SIR   HENRY    LAWRENCE      1 65 

Above  the  Residency  flew,  in  haughty  challenge  to 
the  whole  world,  the  flag  of  England.  That  flag  pro- 
voked in  a  quite  curious  degree  the  wrath  of  the 
mutineers.  Every  gun  that  could  be  brought  to  bear 
on  it  pelted  it  with  shot,  and  again  and  again  the 
stafl'  was  carried  away.  But  the  damage  was  instantly 
repaired,  and  through  the  whole  of  that  desperate 
siege,  while  the  tumult  of  the  fight  raged  on  every 
face  of  the  entrenchments — 

"  Ever  aloft  on  tlie  palace  roof  tlie  old  banner  of  England  blew  ! " 

Upon  this  patch  of  soil,  a  little  over  thirty  acres  in 
extent,  ringed  with  trenches  and  palisades,  with  loop- 
holed  house-walls  and  low  earthworks,  were  gathered 
some  3000  human  beings.  Of  these,  more  than  600 
were  European  women  and  children ;  nearly  700  were 
native  servants,  non-combatants;  another  700  were 
Sepoys,  of  somewhat  dubious  loyalty.  The  real  fight- 
ing strength  of  the  garrison  consisted  of  5  3  5  men  of 
the  32nd,  50  of  the  84th,  89  artillerymen,  100  British 
oflicers — mainly  escapees  from  revolted  regiments — 
and  153  civilians,  mostly  clerks,  who  now  suddenly 
had  to  exchange  the  pen  for  the  musket  and 
bayonet. 

About  900  British,  that  is,  constituted  the  true 
fighting  force  of  Lucknow,  and  these  900  had  to  be 
distributed  amongst  seventeen  "  posts,"  or  batteries, 
and  round  the  2500  yards,  or  thereabouts,  of  con- 
stantly threatened  front.     This  gave  an  average  of, 


1 66   THE  TALE  OF  THE  QUE  AT  MUTINY 

roughly,  fifty  men  to  eacli  post,  a  number,  of  course, 
which  grew  less  every  day. 

The  position  had  one  remarkable  feature.  The 
Residency  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  a  low 
island,  set  in  a  sea  of  native  houses.  Lawrence,  with 
wise  prevision,  had  attempted  to  clear  each  front  of 
the  Residency,  and  from  June  12  he  had  some  600 
workmen  employed  on  this  task.  Nawabs'  palaces 
and  coolies'  huts  alike  were  attacked  with  pickaxe 
and  gunpowder;  but  the  undertaking  was  stupen- 
dous, and  practically  only  the  upper  storeys  of  these 
houses  were  destroyed,  so  that  they  could  not  sweep 
the  British  entrenchments  with  their  fire.  But  the 
lower  walls  were  left  standing,  and  these  afforded 
perfect  cover  to  the  Sepoys,  and  enabled  them  to 
carry  on  their  mining  operations  undetected. 

Along  the  eastern  face  these  houses  were  at  dis- 
tances from  the  British  entrenchments  ranging  from 
twenty-five  to  fifty  yards ;  on  the  southern  face  they 
came  up  to  within  thirteen  yards  of  the  Residency 
front,  an  interval,  say,  as  wide  as  a  city  lane !  So 
close  were  the  two  hostile  lines  for  those  eighty- 
eight  desperate  days,  that  the  British  could  easily 
overhear  the  talk  of  the  Sepoys ;  and  when  bullets 
ceased  to  fly  across  the  narrow  space  between,  ex- 
pletives— couched  in  shrill  Hindu  or  in  rough  Anglo- 
Saxon — naturally  took  their  place  ! 

The  strength  of  the  mutineers  was  a  varying  and 
uncertain  quantity.   Sometimes  it  was  wildly  guessed 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE      1 6/ 

to  have  risen  to  100,000,  at  other  times  to  have  sunk 
to  30,000.  Colonel  Inglis,  in  his  official  report  of 
the  siege,  after  speaking  of  "  the  terrific  and  inces- 
sant fire  day  and  night,"  says  "  there  could  not  have 
been  less  than  8000  men  firing  at  one  time  into  our 
position."  This  describes  the  common  experience  of 
eighty-eight  days.  And  yet  this  great  host,  with 
all  their  constant  tempest  of  fire,  their  repeated 
assaults,  their  innumerable  mines,  never  gained  a 
single  foot  of  that  ground  above  which  flew  the  flag 
of  Eno^land ! 

Sir  Henry  Lawrence's  keen  and  forecasting  intel- 
lect made  the  triumphant  defence  of  Lucknow 
possible,  but  in  that  defence  he  himself  took  the 
briefest  share.  The  siege  practically  began  on  July  i. 
Lawrence  had  taken  up  his  quarters  in  a  room  in 
the  Residency,  which  gave  him  a  complete  view 
of  the  enemy,  but  was  also  peculiarly  open  to  their 
fire.  On  that  first  day  the  Sepoys  threw  an  8-inch 
shell  into  the  room  where  Lawrence  was  sittino-  but 
he  escaped  without  injury.  He  was  entreated  to 
change  his  quarters,  but  answered,  with  a  laugh,  he 
did  not  think  the  enemy  had  a  gunner  good  enough 
to  put  a  second  shot  through  that  same  window ! 
He  was  still  pressed,  however,  to  change,  and  at  last 
he  consented  to  do  so  "  when  he  had  arranged  for 
moving  his  papers." 

At  8  P.M.  on  July  2  Lawrence  was  lying  on  his 
bed  in  this  room,  with  Colonel  Wilson  sitting  beside 


1 68    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GKEAT  MUTINY 

him  writing  down  some  instructions  from  his  lips. 
Lawrence's  nephew,  George,  was  recHning  on  a  bed 
a  few  feet  distant  from  his  uncle ;  a  coolie  sat  on 
the  Hoor  pulling  the  punkah.  Suddenly,  with  a 
terrific  rush,  a  second  shell  from  that  fatal  howitzer 
broke  into  the  room  and  exploded  there.  As  George 
Lawrence  describes  it,  "  There  was  an  instant's  dark- 
ness, and  a  kind  of  red  glare,  and  a  blast  as  of 
thunder,  I  found  myself  uninjured,  though  covered 
with  bricks  from  top  to  toe."  The  very  clothes  were 
torn  off  Wilson's  body,  but  he,  too,  was  uninjured. 
Lawrence  was  the  only  member  of  the  group  struck 
by  the  exploding  shell,  and  he  was  mortally 
wounded,  the  whole  of  the  lower  part  of  his  body 
being  shattered. 

Colonel  Wilson  tells  graphically  the  story  of  the 
exploding  shell,  the  sheet  of  flame,  the  blast  of 
sound,  the  dust,  the  thick  darkness,  the  strangling 
smoke.  He  was  himself  thrown  on  the  floor,  and 
lay  for  a  few  moments  stunned.  Staggering  to  his 
feet,  he  cried,  "  Sir  Henry,  are  you  hurt  ? "  "  Twice 
I  thus  called  without  any  answer ;  the  third  time 
he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  '  I  am  killed.' "  When  the 
dust  cleared  away,  it  was  seen  that  the  coverlet 
on  Lawrence's  bed,  a  moment  before  white,  was 
now  crimsoned  with  his  blood.  He  died  on  the 
morning  of  July  4,  and  the  story  of  the  thirty-six 
hours  between  his  wound  and  his  death  is  strangely 
pathetiCo 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIP.    HENRY    LAWRENCE      1 69 

Fayrer,  who  was  the  resident  surgeon,  was  brought 
hurriedly  in,  and  LaAvrence  in  a  whisper  asked 
him  how  long;-  he  had  to  live.  A  frasfment  of 
the  shell  had  struck  the  hip  and  comminuted  the 
upper  part  of  the  thigh-bone.  The  wound  was 
plainly  fatal ;  and  as  the  walls  of  the  room  in  which 
Lawrence  lay  were  shaking  continually  to  the  stroke 
of  the  enemy's  round-shot,  the  dying  man  was  carried 
to  the  verandah  of  Dr.  Fayrer's  house,  and  there  lay 
through  the  night,  while  life  ebbed  away.  The 
Sepoys,  somehow,  got  to  know  that  Lawrence  was 
lying  under  this  particular  verandah,  and  they 
turned  on  it  what  Fayrer  describes  as  a  "most 
fiendish  fire  of  round-shot  and  musketry."  Through 
it  all  Lawrence  kept  the  most  perfect  composure. 
He  named  his  successor,  Major  Banks,  and  dictated 
exact  and  most  luminous  instructions  as  to  the 
conduct  of  the  siege.  No  finer  proof  of  his  clear, 
tenacious,  forecasting  intellect  can  be  imagined  than 
is  supplied  by  the  counsels  which,  whispered  with 
dying  breath,  he  gave  to  those  on  whom  the  re- 
sponsibility of  the  defence  must  rest.  Lawrence 
thought  of  everything  and  foresaw  everything.  The 
whole  tactics  of  defence — how  to  keep  the  English 
members  of  the  garrison  in  health,  how  to  use  the 
Sepoys,  how  to  economise  the  provisions.  ''Entrench, 
entrench,"  was  the  burden  of  his  whispered  counsels, 
urged  wdth  dying  lips.  "  Let  every  man,"  he  said, 
"  die  at  his  post,  but  never  make  terms."     Only  when 


lyo        THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

he  mentioned  his  wife's  name  did  his  iron  composure 
fail,  and  he  wept  those  rare,  reluctant  tears  which 
strong  men  know.  He  wished  to  partake  of  the 
Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  The  service  was 
held  in  the  open  verandah,  the  sound  of  the  chap- 
lain's voice  being  broken  by  the  incessant  crackle 
of  hostile  muskets  and  the  crash  of  cannon-ball. 
Brave  men  knelt  with  unshamed  tears  by  Lawrence's 
bedside,  and  partook  of  the  Sacrament  with  him. 

After  it  was  over  the  dying  man  begged  them  to 
kiss  him.  The  whole  story,  indeed,  recalls  that 
scene  in  the  cockpit  of  the  Victory,  and  the 
dying  Nelson's  "  Kiss  me.  Hardy  !  "  "  Bury  me," 
said  Lawrence,  "  without  any  fuss,  and  in  the  same , 
grave  with  any  men  of  the  garrison  who  may  die  at 
that  time."  Then,  records  his  biographer,  "  speaking 
rather  to  himself  than  to  those  about  him,"  he 
framed  his  own  immortal  epitaph,  a  sentence  which 
deserves  to  be  remembered  as  long  as  Nelson's 
great  signal  itself,  and  which,  indeed,  has  the  same 
key-word :  "  Here  lies  Henry  Lawrence,  who  tried 
to  do  his  duty.  May  God  have  mercy  on  him."  It 
is  not  so  well  known  that  Lawrence  wished  a  verse 
of  Scripture  should  be  added  to  his  epitaph.  To  the 
chaplain,  Harris,  he  said,  "This  text  I  should  like, 
'  To  the  Lord  our  God  belong  mercies  and  forgive- 
nesses, though  we  have  rebelled  against  Him.'" 
"  It  was,"  he  added,  with  a  sudden  touch  of  loving 
memory,  "  on  my  dear  wife's  tomb." 


LTJCKNOW    AND    SIR   HENRY    LAWRENCE      171 

He  was  buried  at  nii^htfall.  The  combat  was 
raging  fiercely  along  each  front  of  the  Residency's 
defences,  and  not  an  officer  could  follow  the  general 
to  his  grave.  Four  men  of  the  32nd  were  detailed 
to  carry  his  body  to  its  last  rough  resting-place. 
Before  they  lifted  the  couch  on  which  it  lay,  one 
soldier  drew  down  the  sheet,  and  stooping,  kissed 
with  rough  and  quivering  lips  the  dead  man's  fore- 
head, and  each  man  of  the  party  followed  his  ex- 
ample. What  better  sign  of  soldierly  honour  could 
be  imagined  ?  Lawrence's  burial  curiously  recalls 
that  of  Sir  John  Moore  at  Corunna.  He,  too,  was 
buried,  according  to  somewhat  inaccurate  tradition, 
"darkly,  at  the  dead  of  night,"  and  had  for  his 
requiem  the  thunder  of  the  foeman's  guns. 

The  story  of  the  siege  is,  in  the  main,  one  of 
personal  combats ;  of  the  duels  of  hostile  sharp- 
shooters ;  of  desperate  fighting  underground  in  the 
mines;  of  sorties  by  the  few  against  the  many; 
of  the  assaults  of  thousands  repulsed  by  scores.  As 
a  type  of  the  long-enduring  courage  with  which 
individual  "posts"  were  held  may  be  taken  the 
single  fact  that  Captain  Anderson,  whose  residence 
formed  what  was  called  "  Anderson's  post,"  and  who 
had  a  garrison  of  only  twenty  men,  held  his  position 
for  five  months,  though  a  battery  of  nine  9-pounder 
guns  was  playing  upon  it  almost  day  and  night ! 

The  standing  orders  were,  "  Keep  under  cover,  be 
always  on  the  alert,  and  never  fire  a  shot  unless  you 


172    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

can  see  your  man."  But  it  was  very  difficult  to 
enforce  the  first  clause  of  those  instructions,  at  least. 
Lady  Inglis  tells  how  she  once  personally  remon- 
strated with  a  too  daring  private  of  the  32nd  for 
exposing  himself  too  rashly,  and  reminded  him  of 
the  "instructions."  "Yes,"  he  said,  "but  it's  not 
the  way  of  Englishmen  to  fight  behind  walls  ! " 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  sorties  were  incessant  and 
most  daring,  and  were  commonly  got  up  by  small 
inde]3endent  parties,  who  wished  to  clear  out  a  house 
held  by  the  enemy,  or  silence  a  gun  that  proved  too 
tormenting.  "  The  local  sorties,"  says  Innes,  "  were 
made  generally  by  parties  of  not  more  than  half-a- 
dozen  men."  They  would  choose  their  own  leader, 
creep  out  close  to  the  site  of  some  hostile  gun  or 
picket,  dash  on  it,  spike  the  gun,  kill  a  few  of 
the  enemy,  send  the  others  flying,  and  return  in 
triumph ! 

In  the  more  regular  sorties  an  engineer  ofiScer 
and  a  sergeant  leading  would  run  out,  carrying  a 
bag  of  gunpowder  or  a  couple  of  hand  grenades. 
If  the  door  of  the  attacked  house  was  open,  grenades 
were  throAvn  in.  If  it  were  shut  they  drove  in  a 
bayonet,  or  screwed  a  gimlet  in  its  wood,  suspended 
a  bag  of  powder  to  it,  and  lit  the  fuse.  The  moment 
the  crash  came  the  stormers  charged  into  the  build- 
ing, bayoneted  the  Sepoys  holding  it,  placed  another 
bag  of  gunpowder  on  the  floor,  lit  the  fuse,  and  fell 
back,  the  house  five  minutes  afterwards  flying  up 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE      1 73 

in  fragments  into  the  air.  So  expert  did  the  men 
become  in  these  house  attacks  that  they  learned  the 
art  of  always  going  to  the  right,  not  the  left,  of  a 
doorway  or  passage,  so  that  they  could  fire  into  it 
Avithout  exposing  the  whole  body. 

This  sort  of  fighting  naturally  brought  the  more 
gallant  spirits  to  the  front.  A  private  of  the  32nd, 
called  Cooney,  played  a  great  part  in  these  indepen- 
dent combats.  With  a'siuG^le  comrade  he  charc^ed 
into  an  enemy's  battery,  shouting,  as  he  leaped  over 
the  ridge  of  earth,  "  Right  and  left,  extend ! "  so  that 
the  Sepoys  imagined  a  strong  body  was  following, 
and  fled  precipitately,  leaving  the  ingenious  Cooney 
and  his  comrade  to  spike  the  guns  at  leisure ! 

Captain  Birch  says :  "  Cooney's  exploits  were  mar- 
vellous. He  was  backed  by  a  Sepoy  named  Kandiel, 
Avho  simply  adored  him.  Single-handed,  and  with- 
out any  orders,  Cooney  would  go  outside  our  position, 
and  he  knew  more  about  the  enemy's  movements 
than  anybody  else.  Over  and  over  again  he  was  put 
into  the  guard-room  for  '  disobedience  of  orders,' 
and  as  often  let  out  when  there  was  fighting  to  be 
done.  On  one  occasion,  he  surprised  one  of  the 
enemy's  batteries  into  which  he  crawled,  followed  by 
his  faithful  Sepoy,  bayoneting  four  men,  and  spik- 
ing the  guns.  He  was  often  wounded,  and  several 
times  left  his  bed  to  volunteer  for  a  sortie."  Cooney 
was  an  Irishman,  and  loved  fighting  for  its  own  sake. 
He  fell  in  a  sortie  made  after  Havelock's  relief. 


174        THE    TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

Fayrer,  the  Kesidency  surgeon,  combined  with 
equal  energy  the  somewhat  contradictory  duties  of 
inflicting  wounds  and  of  healing  them.  He  worked 
with  tireless  energy,  attending  to  the  sick  and 
wounded  in  the  Residency  itself.  But  he  records, 
"  I  have  constant  opportunity  of  using  my  guns 
and  rifles  from  the  roof  of  my  house,  or  from  the 
platform  in  front  of  it."  And  when  this  indefatigable 
doctor  was  not  going  his  round  among  the  sick  and 
dying,  he  was  to  be  found  on  his  house-roof  bringing 
down  Sepoys  with  the  deadly  skill  he  had  learned 
in  the  jungle  against  tigers  and  deer. 

The  best  shot  on  the  British  side  was  Lieutenant 
Sewell,  who,  happy  in  the  possession  of  a  double- 
barrelled  Enfield  rifle,  from  a  loophole  on  the  top 
of  the  brigade  mess,  which  commanded  a  thorough- 
fare through  the  Sepoy  position,  bagged  his  men 
as  a  good  sportsman  might  bag  pheasants  in  a 
crowded  cover.  But  the  Sepoys,  too,  had  their 
marksmen,  whose  accuracy  was  deadly,  and  whose 
exploits  won  from  the  British  garrison  the  nick- 
names of  "  Jim  the  Rifleman  "  and  "  Bob  the  Nailer." 
"  Bob  the  Nailer,"  from  his  perch  high  up  in  what 
was  called  Johannes'  house,  wrought  deadly  mischief. 
The  British  at  last  paid  him  the  compliment  of 
levelling  a  howitzer  at  him,  and  dropping  a  shell 
into  his  eyrie.  But  shells  were  vain.  It  was  dis- 
covered afterwards  that  "  Bob  the  Nailer,"  when 
he  saw  that  the   gun   was   about   to   fire,   dropped 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENEY    LAWRENCE      175 

down  into  a  sheltered  room,  to  emerge,  as  soon  as 
the  shell  had  exploded,  with  his  fatal  rifle  once 
more. 

Once  a  dash  was  made  at  Johannes'  house,  and 
its  garrison  slaughtered,  but  ''  Bob  the  Nailer " 
escaped,  and  there  was  not  time  to  blow  up  the 
house.  Later  in  the  siege  a  mine  was  run  under  his 
perch,  and  Johannes'  house,  crowded  with  Sepoys, 
with  "Bob  the  Nailer"  at  its  summit,  was  blown 
into  space. 

There  were  moments  in  the  siege  when,  naturally, 
the  spirits  of  many  in  the  garrison  sank.  The  children 
were  dying  from  want  of  air,  of  exercise,  of  whole- 
some food.  They  shrank  into  mere  wizen-faced  old 
men — tiny  skeletons  Avith  tightened,  parchment-like 
skin,  instead  of  round,  cherub-like  faces.  Scurvy 
tainted  the  blood  of  the  unfortunate  garrison. 
Sleeplessness  and  the  ever-present  atmosphere  of 
danger  shook  their  nerves.  Men  stole  out  day  after 
day,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  to  gather  the  leaves 
of  a  cruciferous  plant,  whose  green  leaves,  unscorched 
by  the  flame  of  powder,  could  be  seen  amongst  the 
ruins.  A  rank  and  dreadful  stench  of  decaying 
bodies  hung  over  the  shot-tormented  Residenc}^, 
and  poisoned  the  very  air.  Lady  Inglis  tells  how 
the  ladies  held  rueful  debate  among  themselves  as 
to  the  lawfulness  of  taking  their  own  Hves  if  the 
Residency  fell. 

Amongst  the  Sepoys  within  the  Residency,  again. 


1/6    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

as  the  few  weeks  grew  into  months  and  no  rehef 
came,  there  spread  a  conviction  that  the  fate  of  the 
sahibs  was  sealed,  and  there  were  many  desertions. 
Sixteen  went  off  in  a  body  one  night,  headed  by 
a  Eurasian  with  the  very  British  name  of  "  Jones." 
They  left  the  post  they  held  open  to  the  enemy, 
and  scribbled  on  the  walls  in  several  places  the 
explanation,  "Because  we  have  no  opium."  Jones 
and  his  fellow-deserters,  it  is  not  unsatisfactory  to 
know,  were  shot  by  the  Sepoys. 

One  of  the  ugly  features  of  the  siege  was  that 
several  European  renegades — amongst  them  at  least 
one  Englishman — were  fighting  on  the  side  of  the 
mutineers.  Rees  says  that  at  the  battle  of  Chinhut 
a  European — "a  handsome-looking  man,  well  built, 
fair,  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  with  light  mous- 
tache, and  wearing  the  undress  uniform  of  a  Euro- 
pean cavalry  officer" — headed  a  cavalry  charge  on 
the  men  of  the  32nd.  He  might  have  been  a  Russian, 
but  was  vehemently  suspected  of  being  an  English- 
man, who  had  forsaken  both  his  faith  and  his  race. 
His  name  was  even  whispered,  and  Rees  adds  that  he 
was  of  good  family.  Two  of  his  cousins  were  fighting 
valiantly  in  the  Residency  against  the  rebels,  a  third 
was  wounded  at  Agra,  a  fourth  held  a  high  military 
appointment.  Yet  this  apostate  was  recognised  lay- 
ing a  gun  against  the  Residency !  His  shrift  would 
have  been  particularly  short  had  he  fallen  into  British 
hands.     The  British  privates  in  the  Residency,  too, 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   HENRY    LAWRENCE       1 7/ 

were  kindled  to  a  yet  higher  temperature  of  wrath 
by  hearing  the  bands  of  the  Sepoy  regiments  playing 
— as  if  in  irony — "  God  save  the  Queen "  under  the 
shelter  of  the  ruined  buildings  that  came  almost  up 
to  the  line  of  the  British  entrenchments. 

But  on  the  whole  the  average  Briton  is  apt  to  be 
grimly  cheerful  when  a  good  fight  is  in  progress,  and 
even  this  dreadful  siege  was  not  without  its  humours. 
Thus  Rees  tells  how,  on  the  night  of  July  26,  the 
men  of  his  post  were  spreading  themselves  out  in 
the  chorus  of  "  Cheer,  Boys,  cheer,"  with  the  utmost 
strength  of  their  voices,  when  an  alarm  was  given  at 
the  front.  They  dashed  out,  and,  with  the  unfinished 
syllables  of  that  chorus  yet  on  their  lips,  found  them- 
selves in  the  tumult  and  fury  of  a  desperate  assault. 
After  the  fight  was  over  they  returned  and  finished 
their  interrupted  song ! 

Innes,  again,  relates  how,  when  a  long  mine  of  the 
enemy  had  been  seized,  and  two  officers  were  explor- 
ing its  darkness,  they  heard  the  earth  fall  in  behind 
them.  One  of  the  two,  famous  for  his  resonant 
laugh,  shouted  with  a  burst  of  merriment,  "What 
fun !  They  are  cutting  us  off,"  and  turned  round 
gaily  to  charge  on  his  foes ! 

Danger,  in  a  word,  had  become  an  inspiring  jest 
to  these  brave  spirits.  "  Sam  "  Lawrence,  who  com- 
manded the  Redan,  was  famous  for  the  cheerful 
view  he  always  took  of  affairs.     It  was  known  that 

the  Sepoys  had  several  mines  converging  on  the  pro- 

M 


178        THE   TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

jecting  horn  of  the  Eedan,  and  Lawrence,  as  uncon- 
querably jolly  as  Mark  Tapley  himself,  expressed  his 
view  of  the  situation  to  his  brigadier  by  saying,  with 
a  laugh,  that  "  he  and  his  men  expected  very  shortly 
to  be  up  amongst  the  little  birds  ! " 

On  June  14,  Fayrer  records,  "  If  we  can  believe  our 
enemies,  we  are  the  last  Englishmen  in  the  country." 
This  might  or  might  not  be  the  case ;  but  the  garri- 
son determined  grimly  that,  if  they  were  the  last  of 
their  race,  they  would  not  disgrace  it.  In  the  ver- 
nacular of  the  camp,  they  had  agreed  to  "  blow  the 

whole thing  into  the  air  "  rather  than  surrender. 

"I  was  quite  determined,"  says  Fayrer,  "that  they 
should  not  take  me  alive,  and  I  would  kill  as  many 
of  them  as  I  could  before  they  took  me.  .  .  .  Some 
men  asked  me  to  give  them  poison  for  their  wives,  if 
the  enemy  should  get  in.  But  this  I  absolutely  re- 
fused to  do." 

Courage,  when  high-strung,  sometimes  evolves  an 
almost  uncanny  cheerfulness.  The  Sepoys  brought 
a  mortar  into  action  that  dropped  shell  after  shell  on 
one  particular  house.  "  We  got  the  ladies  up  out  of 
the  Tyekhana,"  records  Fayrer,  and  they  amused 
themselves  by  trying  to  be  cheerful  and  singing  part- 
songs  in  the  portico,  to  the  rushing  of  shells  and  the 
whistling  of  musket-balls.  When  before  were  such 
songs  attempted  to  such  an  accompaniment  ?  But 
the  women  of  the  Residency  showed  throughout  a 
courage  quite  as  high  as  that  of  the  inen.     During 


LUCKNOW   AND    SIR   HENRY   LAWRENCE       1 79 

the  great  assault  on  July  20,  when,  on  the  explosion 
of  a  mine,  the  Sepoys  attempted  to  storm  the  Resi- 
dency at  half-a-dozen  points,  "every  one,"  says 
Fayrer,  "was  at  his  post,  and  poured  shot,  shell, 
grape,  and  musketry  into  them  as  hard  as  possible. 
The  noise  was  frightful,  the  enemy  shouting  and 
urging  each  other  on.  It  certainly  seemed  to  me  as 
if  our  time  had  come.  But  all  the  poor  ladies  were 
patiently  awaiting  the  result  in  the  Tyekhana." 

"  During  the  whole  siege,"  says  Gubbins,  "  I  never 
heard  of  a  man  among  the  Europeans  who  played 
the  coward.  Some  croaked,  no  doubt,  many  were 
despondent,  yet  others  grew  grimly  desperate  during 
those  terrible  days."  Gubbins  relates  how  he  was 
one  evening  taken  aside  by  an  officer,  who  explained 
that  he  had  arranged  with  his  wife  that,  if  the  Sepoys 
forced  their  way  in,  he  would  shoot  her.  "  She  had 
declared  herself  content  to  die  by  a  pistol-ball  from 
his  hand."  He  offered  to  do  the  same  friendly  ser- 
vice for  Gubbins's  wife,  if  necessary,  and  wanted  Gub- 
bins to  undertake  a  like  desperate  office  for  his  wife, 
if  required.  To  such  desperate  straits  were  civilised 
and  Christian  men  driven ! 

The  courage  shown  by  the  women  was  uniform 
and  wonderful.  Dr.  Fayrer  relates  how  a  shell  broke 
in  the  bedroom  where  his  wife  was  lying.  It  shat- 
tered the  room  and  set  fire  to  the  bedclothes  with  its 
explosion.  Fayrer  ran  in ;  and,  he  says,  "  My  wife 
immediately  spoke  to  me  out  of  the  smoke,  and  said 


l80   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

she  was  not  hurt.  She  was  perfectly  composed  and 
tranquil,  though  a  9-pound  bombshell  had  just  burst 
by  the  side  of  her  bed." 

There  were  three  great  all-round  attacks,  on  July 
20,  August  10,  and  September  5.  The  most  des- 
perate, perhaps,  was  that  on  the  Cawnpore  battery, 
the  most  nearly  successful  that  on  the  Sikh  square. 
The  attack  on  the  Sikh  square  was  preceded  by  the 
explosion  of  a  mine  which  made  a  breach  thirty  feet 
wide  in  the  British  defences,  and  buried  seven  of  its 
defenders  under  the  ruins.  There  was  good  cover  for 
the  enemy  close  up  to  the  breach,  and  no  reason  why 
they  should  not  have  swarmed  in,  except  the  argu- 
ment of  the  smoke-blackened,  grim-looking  sahibs 
who  suddenly  appeared,  musket  in  hand,  to  guard 
the  great  gap. 

A  rush  was,  indeed,  made  by  the  Sepoys,  and  a 
native  officer  of  the  Irregular  Cavalry,  who  headed 
the  rush  gallantly  enough,  actually  crossed  the  line 
of  the  entrenchments — the  only  mutineer  who, 
during  the  long  siege,  succeeded  in  putting  his  foot 
on  the  soil  held  by  the  British.  He  was  instantly 
shot,  and  so  cruel  and  swift  was  the  fire  poured  in 
upon  the  Sepoys  that  they  fell  back  in  confusion, 
and  under  Inglis's  orders  planks  and  doors  were 
brought  quickly  up,  and  arranged,  one  overlapping 
the  other,  till  the  whole  gap  was  covered,  and  a  pile 
of  sand-bags  built  behind  it. 

Gubbins   describes   one   critical    moment    in    the 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    HENRY    LAWRENCE       l8l 

siege.  On  July  21st  it  was  discovered  the  Sepoys 
had  dug  through  an  adjoining  wall  and  found  their 
way  into  a  narrow  lane  which  skirted  the  com- 
pound; and,  literally,  only  a  canvas  screen  parted 
them  from  the  British  position !  Gubbins  ran  to  the 
single  loophole  which  commanded  the  lane,  and,  with 
his  rifle,  shot  down  every  Sepoy  who  attempted  to 
cross  it  while  the  gap  in  the  British  defences  was 
being  hurriedly  built  up.  "At  this  moment,"  he 
says,  "  I  heard  the  voice  of  a  European  behind  me, 
and,  without  turning  my  head,  begged  that  the  wall 
in  the  rear  of  the  mutineers  might  be  loop-holed  and 
musketry  opened  upon  them.  The  person  behind 
me,  it  seems,  was  Major  Banks.  He  approached  my 
post  to  get  a  sight  of  the  enemy,  and  while  looking 
out  incautiously  received  a  bullet  through  the 
temples.  I  heard  the  heavy  fall,  and  turned  for  a 
second.  He  was  dead.  He  never  moved,  and  I  re- 
sumed my  guard  over  the  enemy."  For  two  stern 
hours  Gubbins  guarded  the  gap.  Then  assistance 
came,  the  Sepoys  were  driven  from  their  point  of 
vantage,  and  the  gap  in  the  defences  built  up. 

Later  on  in  the  siege  the  fighting  was  carried  on 
beneath  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The  Sepoys  had 
amongst  them  many  men  belonging  to  a  caste  famous 
for  skill  with  the  spade,  and  from  more  than  a  score 
of  separate  points  they  drove  mines  towards  the  en- 
trenchments. Spade  had  to  fight  spade ;  and,  as 
in  the  32nd  were  many  Cornishmen  familiar  with 


1 82    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

mining  work,  these  were  employed  to  countermine 
the  enemy.  The  Sepoys  undertook  37  separate 
mines,  and  of  these  36  were  faihires,  only  one — that 
directed  against  the  Sikh  square — proving  successful. 

One  of  the  most  heroic  figures  in  the  immortal 
garrison  was  Captain  Fulton,  the  garrison  engineer, 
who,  on  the  death  of  Major  Anderson,  took  charge  of 
all  engineering  operations.  Fulton  was  a  superb  en- 
gineer, and  all  the  stories  of  the  siege  do  justice  to 
the  part  he  played  in  the  defence.  Gubbins  says  he 
was  "  the  life  and  soul  of  everything  that  was  perse- 
vering, chivalrous,  and  daring,"  and  declares  that  he 
deserved  to  be  called  "  the  Defender  of  Lucknow." 
Mr.  Fulton,  of  Melbourne,  a  relation  of  this  brave 
man,  still  preserves  the  journal  of  the  siege  kept  by 
his  kinsman.  It  is  a  document  of  real  historical 
value,  and  gives  a  graphic  picture  of  the  great 
struggle  from  day  to  day.  He  tells  again  and  again 
how  he  met  the  enemy's  mines  by  countermines,  how 
he  broke  in  upon  them,  swept  them  from  their  drive 
like  flying  rabbits,  and  blew  the  whole  affair  up,  as 
he  puts  it,  "  with  great  enjoyment  of  the  fun  and 
excitement ! " 

Fulton  once  found  that  they  had  driven  a  mine 
close  up  to  the  wall  of  a  house  that  formed  part  of 
the  British  defence,  and  he  could  hear  the  sound  of 
pick  and  shovel  distinctly.  "  I  thought  this  very  im- 
pudent," he  writes ;  "  they  could  be  so  easily  met ; 
but  it  seemed  a  bore  to  begin  to  counter.    So  I  just 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   HENRY   LAWRENCE       1 83 

put  my  head  over  the  wall  and  called  out  in  Hindu- 
stanee  a  trifle  of  abuse  and  '  Bagho  !  bagho ! ' — *  Fly  ! 
fly ! ' — when  such  a  scuftle  and  bolt  took  place  I 
could  not  leave  for  half-an-hour  for  laughing.  They 
dropped  it  for  good — that  was  the  best  of  the  joke." 

Fulton  took  his  full  part  in  the  general  fighting. 
Thus,  in  the  assault  on  the  Cawnpore  battery,  he  re- 
lates that  he  "  found  the  enemy  led  by  a  man  in  pink, 
whom  I  had  noticed  several  times  directino'  them  as 
they  came  up.  I  put  a  rifle-ball  through  him,  and 
then  sent  Tulloch  to  order  hand-grenades,  the  second 
of  which,  well  thrown,  cleared  the  ditch."  Here  is 
a  picture,  again,  of  one  of  Fulton's  many  sorties  to 
destroy  houses  by  which  the  British  were  annoyed : 

We  sneaked  out  of  our  lines  into  a  house.  I  had  only 
a  penknife,  slow  match,  and  port-fire  in  my  hand,  and  was 
followed  close  by  two  Europeans,  and  supported  by  a  dozen 
more.  We  expected  to  find  the  house  empty,  but  George 
Hutchinson,  who  was  first,  suddenly  startled  us  by  firing 
his  revolver  and  calling  out  "  Here  are  twenty  of  them  !  " 
The  two  Europeans — indeed,  all  of  them — fell  back  a  pace 
or  two ;  but  I  seized  a  musket  from  one,  and  ran  forward. 
They  followed,  and  I  put  them  in  position  to  guard  doors, 
while  I  twitted  the  enemy  with  not  showing  theii'  faces,  as 
I  did,  in  front  of  the  door,  but  standing  with  only  their 
firelocks  showing.  The  chaff  had  the  effect,  for  one  dashed 
out  and  fired  at  me,  but  I  shot  him  instanter.  They  then 
bolted  as  I  gave  the  word  "  Charge !  "  and  we  blew  up  the 
house.     Great  fun  and  excitement  in  a  small  way  ! 

Fulton  detected  a  mine  the  enemy  had  driven  a 


1 84   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

certain  distance ;  he  ran  a  short  countermine  to  meet 
it,  and  then  sat  patiently,  revolver  in  hand,  waiting 
for  the  unconscious,  enemy  to  break  through.  "  Some 
one,"  he  relates,  "looking  for  me,  asked  one  of  the 
Europeans  if  I  was  in  the  mine.  'Yes,  sir!'  said 
the  sergeant,  '  there  he  has  been  for  the  last  two 
hours,  like  a  terrier  at  a  rat-hole,  and  not  likely 
to  leave  it  either  all  day ! ' "  It  was  to  the  energy, 
skill,  and  daring  of  this  gallant  officer  that  the  com- 
plete defeat  of  the  enemy's  mines  was  due. 

The  last  entry  in  his  journal  is  dated  September  1 1 ; 
on  September  1 3  he  was  killed.  Says  Captain  Birch, 
"  The  death  of  this  brilliant  officer  Avas  occasioned  by 
one  of  the  most  curious  of  wounds.  He  had  been 
inspecting  a  new  battery  in  an  earthwork  opposite 
Mr.  Gubbins's  house.  He  was  lying  at  full  length  in 
one  of  the  embrasures,  Avith  a  telescope  in  his  hand. 
He  turned  his  face,  with  a  smile  on  it,  and  said: 
'  They  are  just  going  to  fire,'  and  sure  enough  they 
did !  The  shot  took  away  the  whole  of  the  back  of 
Captain  Fulton's  head,  leaving  his  face  like  a  mask 
still  on  his  neck.  When  he  was  laid  out  on  his  back 
on  a  bed,  we  could  not  see  how  he  had  been  killed. 
His  was  the  most  important  loss  we  had  sustained 
after  that  of  Sir  Henry  Lawrence." 


MATOR-GENERAL   SIR    HENRY    HAVELOCK.    K.C.B. 


From  an  engraving 


CHAPTER  VII 

LUCKNOW    AND    HAVELOCK 

LUCKNOW  is  only  forty-five  miles  from  Cawn- 
pore.  On  July  25,  Havelock,  at  the  head  of  his 
tiny  but  gallant  force,  by  this  time  tempered  in  the 
flame  of  battle  to  the  quality  of  mere  steel,  crossed 
the  Ganges  in  a  tem23est  of  rain,  and  started  to 
rescue  the  beleaguered  garrison  of  Lucknow  from 
the  fate  of  Cawnpore.  But  it  was  not  until  Septem- 
ber 25  that  Outran!  and  Havelock  clambered  through 
the  shot-battered  gun  embrasure  in  the  low  wall 
beside  the  Bailey  Guard  at  Lucknow,  and  brought 
relief  to  the  hard-pressed  garrison.  And  the  story 
of  those  nine  weeks  is  scribbled  over  with  records  of 
daring  and  of  achievement  unsurpassed  in  the  his- 
tory of  war. 

Havelock  left  300  men  under  Neill  to  hold  Cawn- 
pore, where  rough  but  adequate  entrenchments  had 
been  thrown  up.  Furious  rains  had  swollen  the 
Ganges,  and  it  took  him  four  days  to  transport  his 
little  force  across  its  turbid  and  far-extended  waters. 
He  had  under  his  command  Neill's  "blue-caps,"  the 
64th,  the  84th,  the  78th,  and  Brasyer's  Sikhs,  a  force 

not   quite    1500   strong — of  which   only   1300   were 

185 


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LUCKNOW   AND    HAVELOCK  I  8/ 

British — with  ten  small  field-pieces  and  a  troop  of 
sixty  horsemen.  And  with  this  mere  handful  of 
men  a  dozen  strong  positions  had  to  be  carried,  a 
great  river  crossed,  and  a  huge  city,  swarming  with 
enemies,  pierced ! 

The  village  of  Onao  barred  the  road,  some  nine 
miles  from  the  banks  of  the  Ganges.  Every  house 
was  held  by  Oude  irregulars,  a  stubborn  and  hard- 
fighting  race;  the  rain-water,  lying  deep  on  both 
flanks  of  the  village,  made  a  turning  movement  im- 
possible. The  infantry  had  outmarched  the  guns, 
and  Havelock  wished  to  keep  them  back  till  his  artil- 
lery came  up. 

But  the  men  were  fiercely  impatient,  and  could 
hardly  be  restrained.  "  Pray,  sir,"  urged  Colonel 
Hamilton,  of  the  78th,  "let  them  go  at  the  place  and 
have  done  with  it."  Havelock  nodded,  and  in  an 
instant  Highlanders  and  Fusileers,  vehemently  racing 
against  each  other,  went  at  a  run  into  the  village. 
Every  house  was  a  loopholed  fortress,  and  the  fight- 
ing was  stubborn  and  deadly.  House  after  house 
broke  into  flames,  while  clusters  of  Highlanders  and 
Fusileers  broke  through  doors  and  windows.  The 
Oude  men,  to  quote  Forbes's  phrase,  "fought  like 
wild  cats  while  they  roasted."  The  64tli  next  came 
up  at  the  double,  and  the  village  was  carried. 

Beyond  the  village  the  flying  guns  of  the  enemy 
halted,  and  drew  up  across  the  narrow  causeway, 
barring  it  with  a  fiery  hedge  of  shot  and  flame ;  but 


1 88   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

the  "blue-caps,"  their  officers  leading,  swept  like  a 
human  whirlwind  down  on  the  guns,  and  the  stub- 
born Oude  gunners,  to  a  man,  were  bayoneted  at 
their  pieces. 

Six  miles  further  the  walled  town  of  Bussarat 
Gunj  crossed  the  road,  its  gateway  spanning  the 
whole  width  of  the  causeway.  Havelock  took  his 
guns  within  short  range  of  the  gateway,  and  com- 
menced to  batter  it,  whilst  he  despatched  the  64th 
to  turn  the  town  and  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  enemy. 
It  was  clever  strategy,  but  the  78th  and  the  Fusileers 
were  too  quick,  the  64tli  too  slow.  Highlanders  and 
"blue-caps"  carried  trench,  gateway,  and  battery 
with  one  sustained  and  angry  rush,  and  as  they 
came  storming  through  the  gateway  with  bent  heads 
and  bayonets  at  the  charge,  the  enemy  were  driven, 
a  jumble  of  flying  horsemen,  galloping  artillery,  and 
wrecked  infantry,  through  the  town  beyond  it.  The 
64th,  it  is  said,  marched  reluctantly  on  their  turning 
movement.  The  men  were  eager  to  share  the  straight 
rush  at  the  gate. 

Young  Havelock,  mistaking  the  men's  temper, 
galloped  up  to  the  regiment  with  a  message  from 
his  impatient  father  that  lost  nothing  in  carrying — 
"If  you  don't  go  at  the  village  I'll  send  men  that 
will  go,  and  put  an  everlasting  disgrace  on  you!" 
Brave  men  do  not  lightly  endure  the  whip  of  a  mes- 
sage like  that,  and  Forbes  relates  how  a  private 
named  Paddy  Cavanagh  leaped  from  the  ranks,  ran 


LUCKNOW    AND    HAVELOCK  1 89 

single-lianded  in  on  the  enemy,  "  cursing  his  comrades 
with  bitter  Irish  malisons  as  he  sped,  and  was  hter- 
ally  hacked  to  pieces,  fighting  Hke  a  wild  cat  in  the 
ranks  of  his  enemies " !  How  the  64th  followed 
where  valiant  Paddy  Cavanagh  had  led  may  be 
imagined ;  but  the  late  arrival  of  the  64th  had  spoiled 
Havelock's  combination,  and  he  was  too  much  given 
to  vehement  rhetoric  to  spare  the  heavy-footed  64tli 
a  lash  of  the  whip.  "  Some  of  you,"  he  said  in  his 
order  of  the  day  next  morning,  "  fought  yesterday  as 
if  the  cholera  had  seized  your  mind  as  well  as  your 
bodies ! " 

Havelock  had  by  this  time  marched  fifteen  miles, 
fought  two  battles,  used  up  one-third  of  his  ammuni- 
tion, and  lost  by  bullet  or  cholera  about  one-sixth  of 
his  force.  At  this  rate  of  progress  he  would  reach 
Lucknow  with  powderless  guns  and  600  bayonets ! 
Cawnpore  itself,  too,  was  threatened,  and  at  Dinapore, 
a  vital  point  in  the  long  water-line  between  Calcutta 
and  Allahabad,  three  regiments  of  Sepoys  had  broken 
into  mutiny,  and  threatened  Havelock's  communica- 
tions with  the  capital. 

Havelock  consulted  with  Tytler,  his  quartermaster- 
general,  his  chief  engineer,  and  his  son.  Young 
Havelock,  with  the  effervescing  and  heady  valour 
of  youth,  was  for  "  pushing  on  at  all  hazards " ;  the 
older  men  declared  this  meant  the  entire  destruction 
of  the  force,  and  perhaps  the  loss  of  Lucknow,  and 
Havelock  was  too  good  a  soldier  not  to  agree  with 


190   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

this  view.  It  was  an  act  of  nobler  courage  to  fall 
back  than  to  advance,  but  Havelock's  fine-tempered 
valour  was  equal  to  the  feat,  and  he  turned  the  faces 
of  his  reluctant  soldiers  back  to  Cawnpore. 

Neill,  fierce  and  vehement  by  nature,  when  he 
heard  the  news,  despatched  an  amazing  letter  to 
his  chief. 

"  You  ought  not  to  remain  a  day  where  you  are," 
he  wrote.  "  You  talk  of  advancing  as  soon  as  rein- 
forcements reach  you.  You  ought  to  advance  again, 
and  not  halt  until  you  have  rescued,  if  possible,  the 
garrison  of  Lucknow."  Havelock,  with  that  note  of 
shrill  temper  which  ran  through  his  character,  was 
the  last  man  to  endure  exhortations  of  this  peremp- 
tory quality  from  a  subordinate.  "  There  must  be 
an  end,"  he  wrote  back,  "  to  these  proceedings  at 
once."  Nothing,  he  said,  but  the  possible  injury  to 
the  public  service  prevented  him  from  putting  Neill 
under  immediate  arrest !  "  But,"  he  added,  "  you 
now  stand  warned.     Attempt  no  further  dictation  ! " 

The  truth  is,  both  men  Avere  splendid  soldiers,  but 
of  a  type  so  different  that  neither  could  understand 
the  other.  Neill  was  of  the  silent,  dour  type ;  Have- 
lock was  too  shrill  and  vocal  for  him.  Havelock,  on 
the  other  hand,  often  felt  Neill's  stern  silence  to  be 
an  unsyllabled  reproof,  and  he  more  than  suspected 
Neill  of  the  desire  to  overbear  him.  When  Neill 
joined  him  at  Cawnpore,  Havelock's  first  words  to 
him  were,  "Now,  General  Neill,  let  us  understand 


LUCKNOW    AND   HAVELOCK  I91 

each  other.  You  have  no  power  or  authority  here 
whilst  I  am  here,  and  you  are  not  to  issue  a  single 
order  here."  There  were  the  elements  of  a  very 
pretty  quarrel  betwixt  the  two  soldiers  who  were 
upholding  the  flag  of  England  at  the  heart  of  the 
Mutiny ;  and  yet,  so  essentially  noble  were  both  men, 
and  so  fine  was  their  common  standard  of  soldierly 
duty,  that  they  laid  aside  their  personal  quarrel 
absolutely,  and  stood  by  each  other  with  flawless 
loyalty  till,  under  the  fatal  archway  at  the  Kaisar- 
bagh,  ISTeill  fell,  shot  through  the  head. 

Havelock  telegraphed  to  Calcutta  that  he  could 
not  resume  his  march  to  Lucknow  till  he  had  been 
reinforced  by  1000  infantry  and  Olpherts'  battery 
complete.  Yet  on  August  4,  when  he  had  been 
reinforced  by  merely  a  single  company  and  two  guns, 
he  started  afresh  for  Lucknow,  won  another  costly 
victory  at  Bussarat  Gunj,  and  then  fell  back  once 
more  on  Cawnpore,  with  cholera  raging  amongst  his 
men.  Almost  every  fourth  British  soldier  under 
his  command  was  disabled  either  by  sickness  or 
wounds.  Havelock  had  simply  to  wait  till  reinforce- 
ments came  up ;  but  he  relieved  his  feelings  while  he 
waited  by  marching  out  and  destroying  Bithoor,  Nana 
Sahib's  palace. 

The  days  crept  past  leaden-footed ;  reinforcements 
trickled  in,  so  to  speak,  drop  by  drop.  Not  till 
September  16  was  Havelock  ready  for  the  final 
march  to  Lucknow.     And  then  Outram  arrived  to 


192        THE   TALE    OF   THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

supersede  him !  It  was,  in  a  sense,  a  cruel  stroke  to 
Havelock.  But  he  and  Outram  were  tried  comrades, 
knitted  to  each  other  by  a  friendship  woven  of  the 
memories  and  companionship  of  many  years,  and 
Outram  was  himself  one  of  the  most  chivalrous  and 
self-effacing  men  that  ever  lived.  The  story  of  how 
he  refused  to  take  the  command  out  of  Havelock's 
hands,  confined  himself  to  his  civil  office  as  commis- 
sioner, and  put  himself,  as  a  mere  volunteer,  under 
Havelock's  orders,  is  an  oft-told  and  most  noble  tale. 

On  September  19  Havelock  crossed  the  Ganges,  by 
this  time  bridged,  with  a  force  numbering  3000  men 
of  all  arms.  The  Madras  Fusileers,  the  5  th  Fusileers, 
the  84th,  and  two  companies  of  the  64th,  under  Neill, 
formed  the  first  brigade.  The  second  brigade,  under 
Colonel  Hamilton,  consisted  of  the  78th  Highlanders, 
the  90th,  and  Brasyer's  Sikhs.  The  artillery  consisted 
of  three  batteries,  under  Maude,  Olpherts,  and  Eyre 
respectively;  and  no  guns  that  ever  burned  powder 
did  more  gallant  and  desperate  service  than  these. 
The  pieces,  indeed,  might  well  have  been  stored,  as 
heroic  relics,  in  some  great  museum.  The  cavalry 
was  made  up  of  109  volunteers  and  59  native  horse- 
men, under  Barrow. 

The  rain  fell  as  though  another  Noachian  deluge 
was  imminent.  The  rice-fields  on  either  side  of  the 
road  were  either  lakes  or  quagmires.  The  column, 
however,  pushed  on  with  eager  and  cheerful,  if  wet- 
footed,   courage.      The   Sepoys   held   the  village   of 


LUCKNOW   AND    HAVELOCK  1 93 

Mungulwagh  strongly.  Havelock  smote  them  in 
front  with,  his  artillery,  turned  their  flank  with  his 
infantry,  marching — or  rather  splashing — through 
the  swamps,  and  when  the  Sepoys  had  been,  in  this 
manner,  hustled  out  of  the  town,  he  launched  his 
little  squadron  of  cavalry  upon  them.  Outram  rode 
among  the  troopers  armed  with  nothing  but  a  gold- 
mounted  cane,  with  which  he  thumped  the  heads 
and  shoulders  of  the  flying  enemy. 

Here  some  mutineers,  stained  with  special  crimes, 
fell  into  Havelock's  hands,  and  Maude,  in  his  "  Memo- 
ries of  the  Mutiny,"  tells  how  Havelock  asked  him 
"  if  he  knew  how  to  blow  a  man  from  a  gun."  This 
art  does  not  form  part  of  the  curriculum  at  Wool- 
wich, but  Maude  could  only  touch  his  cap  and 
say  he  "  would  try."  Here  is  a  grim  picture  of  the 
doings  of  that  stern  time  : — 

When  we  halted  for  the  night,  I  moved  one  of  my  guns 
on  to  the  causeway,  unlimbered  it,  and  brought  it  into 
''  action  front."  The  evening  was  just  beginning  to  grow 
dusk,  and  the  enemy  were  still  in  sight,  on  the  crest  of 
some  rising  ground  a  few  hundred  yards  distant.  The 
remainder  of  my  guns  were  "  parked  "  in  a  nice  mango- 
tope  to  the  right  of  the  road.  .  .  .  The  first  man  led  out 
was  a  fine-looking  young  Sepoy,  with  good  features,  and  a 
bold,  resolute  expression.  He  begged  that  he  might  not 
be  bound,  but  this  could  not  be  allowed,  and  I  had  his 
wrists  tied  tightly  each  to  the  upper  part  of  a  wheel  of  the 
gun.  Then  I  depressed  the  muzzle,  until  it  pointed  to  the 
pit  of  his  stomach,  just  below  the  sternum.     We  put  no 

N 


194    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

shot  in,  and  I  only  kept  one  gunner  (besides  the  "  firing  " 
number)  near  the  gun,  standing  myself  about  lo  ft.  to  the 
left  rear.  The  young  Sepoy  looked  undauntedly  at  us 
during  the  whole  process  of  pinioning ;  indeed,  he  never 
flinched  for  a  moment.  Then  I  ordered  the  port-fire  to  be 
lighted,  and  gave  the  word  ''  Fire !  "  There  was  a  con- 
siderable recoil  from  the  gun,  and  a  thick  cloud  of  smoke 
hung  over  us.  As  this  cleared  away,  we  saw  two  legs 
lying  in  front  of  the  gun,  but  no  other  sign  of  what  had, 
just  before,  been  a  human  being  and  a  brave  man.  At 
this  moment,  perhaps  from  six  to  eight  seconds  after  the 
explosion,  down  fell  the  man's  head  among  us,  slightly 
blackened,  but  otherwise  scarcely  changed.  It  must 
have  gone  straight  up  into  the  air,  probably  about  200 
feet. 

This  was  stern,  uncanny  occupation  for  a  humane- 
minded.  British  officer !  But  the  times  were  stern, 
the  crisis  supreme. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day's  march  the  air 
was  full  of  a  faint,  far-off,  vibrating  sound.  It  was 
the  distant  roar  of  the  enemy's  cannon  breaking  like 
some  angry  and  dreadful  sea  on  the  besieged  Resi- 
dency !  When  the  camp  was  pitched  Havelock  fired 
a  royal  salute,  hoping  the  sound  would  reach  the  ears 
of  the  beleaguered  garrison,  and  tell  them  rescue  was 
coming ;  but  the  faint  wind  failed  to  carry  the  sound 
to  the  Residency.  When  the  soldiers  began  their 
march  on  September  23,  Lucknow  was  only  sixteen 
miles  distant,  and  by  noon  the  Alumbagh  was  in 
sight,  held  by  a  force  of  some  1 2,000  men. 


LUCKNOW    AND   HAVELOCK  1 95 

Havelock  turned  the  enemy's  right  with  his  second 
brigade,  while  he  engaged  the  enemy's  guns  with 
Eyre's  battery  in  front.  Olpherts,  with  his  guns,  was 
sent  to  assist  the  turning  movement.  Here  is  a 
stirring  battle  picture  drawn  by  Forbes: — 

At  a  stretching  gallop,  with  some  volunteer  cavalry  in 
front  of  it,  the  horse  battery  dashed  up  the  road  past  the 
halted  first  brigade,  which  cheered  loudly  as  the  cannon 
swept  by,  Neill  waving  his  cap  and  leading  the  cheering. 
On  the  left  of  the  road  there  was  a  great  deep  trench  full 
of  water,  which  had  somehow  to  be  crossed.  Led  by 
Barrow,  the  cavalry  escort  plunged  in,  and  scrambled 
through,  and  then  halted  to  watch  how  Olpherts  would 
conquer  the  obstacle.  "  Hell-fire  Jack  "  was  quite  equal 
to  the  occasion,  and  his  men  were  as  reckless  as  himself. 
With  no  abatement  of  speed  the  guns  were  galloped  into 
the  great  trough.  For  a  moment  there  was  chaos — a  wild 
medley  of  detachments,  drivers,  guns,  struggling  horses, 
and  splashing  water ;  and  then  the  guns  were  out  on  the 
fiu-ther  side,  nobody  and  nothing  the  worse  for  the 
scramble,  all  hands  on  the  alert  to  obey  Olpherts'  sten- 
torian shout,  "  Forward  at  a  gallop  !  " 

Hamilton's  men  marched  and  fought  knee-deep  in 
water  ;  but  the  enemy's  right  was  smashed,  his  centre 
tumbled  into  ruin,  and  the  men  of  the  78th  and 
the  Fusileers  actually  carried  the  Alumbagh  in  ten 
minutes  !  To  tumble  1 2,000  men  into  flight,  and  carry 
the  Alumbagh  in  this  fashion,  and  in  a  space  so 
brief,  was  a  great  feat ;  and  while  the  men  were  in 
the  exultation  of  victory,  a  messenger  came  riding  in 


196        THE   TALE   OF  THE   GREAT   MUTINY 

with  the  news — unhappily  not  true — that  Delhi  had 
fallen ! 

On  the  24th  the  little  force  rested,  while  its  leaders 
matured  their  plans  for  the  advance  to  the  Residency. 
Before  them  ran  the  great  canal,  the  road  crossing  it 
by  what  was  called  the  Charbagh  bridge.  Havelock's 
plan  was  to  bridge  the  Goomtee,  the  river  into  which 
the  canal  ran,  march  along  its  further  bank,  round 
the  city  to  its  north-west  angle,  and  re-cross  by  the 
iron  bridge  immediately  in  front  of  the  Residency, 
and  in  this  way  avoid  the  necessity  of  forcing  his  Avay, 
with  desperate  and  bloody  street-fighting,  through 
the  interlaced  and  tangled  lanes  of  the  city. 

But  the  soil  between  the  canal  and  the  river  was 
little  better  than  a  marsh,  and  it  was  determined  to 
force  the  Charbagh  bridge,  advance  on  a  lane  which 
skirted  the  left  bank  of  the  canal,  then  turn  sharply 
to  the  left,  and  fight  a  way  across  the  city  to  the 
Residency. 

Three  hundred  footsore  and  sick  men  were  left  to 
hold  the  Alumbagh.  In  the  grey  dawn  of  September 
25,  Havelock's  men,  scanty  in  number,  worn  with 
marching,  and  hardened  with  a  score  of  fights,  were 
falling  into  line  for  the  final  march,  which  was  to 
relieve  Lucknow.  "  The  sergeants  of  companies," 
says  an  eye-witness,  "acting  on  their  orders,  were 
shouting  '  Fall  out,  all  you  men  that  are  footsore  or 
sick  ; '  but  many  added  the  taunt,  '  and  all  you  fellows 
whose  heart  isn't  good  as  well ! ' "     But  no  man  fell 


LUCKNOW    AND   HAVELOCK  1 97 

out  of  the  ranks  that  grey  September  morning  on  that 
coward's  plea!  At  half-past  eight  the  bugles  sang 
out  the  advance,  and  with  a  cheer,  and  a  quick  step 
which  the  officers  could  scarcely  restrain  from  break- 
ing into  the  double,  the  men  moved  off  for  the  last 
act  in  this  great  adventure. 

Maude's  guns  moved  first,  covered  by  two 
companies  of  the  5  th  (Northumberland)  Fusileers. 
Outram  rode  by  Maude's  side  with  the  leading  gun. 
Instantly,  from  a  wide  front,  a  cruel  and  deadly  fire 
smote  the  head  of  the  little  column.  From  the 
enemy's  batteries  on  either  flank,  carefully  laid  and 
admirably  served,  from  the  cornfields,  from  the 
garden  walls,  from  the  house-roofs,  a  terrific  fire  of 
musketry  and  cannon-shot  lashed,  as  with  a  scourge 
of  flame,  the  causeway  on  which  the  English  guns 
were  moving.  Maude's  guns  were  halted,  and  opened 
fiercely  in  answer  to  this  fire.  The  men  fell  fast.  A 
musket-ball  passed  through  Outram's  arm,  but,  says 
Maude,  "  he  only  smiled,  and  asked  one  of  us  to  tie  his 
handkerchief  tightly  above  the  wound."  The  cluster 
of  British  guns,  with  their  gallant  gunners,  stood  in 
the  very  centre  of  a  tempest  of  shot.  Here  is  a  pic- 
ture, drawn  by  Maude,  of  the  carnage  in  his  battery  : — 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  the  finest  soklier  in  our 
battery,  and  the  best  artilleryman  I  have  ever  known, 
Sergeant-Major  Alexander  Lamont,  had  the  whole  of  his 
stomach  carried  away  by  a  round  shot.  H-e  looked  up 
to  me  for  a  moment  with  a  piteous  expression,  but  had 


198    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

only  strength  to  utter  two  words,  '*  Oh  !  God  !  "  when  he 
sank  dead  on  the  road.  Just  then  another  round  shot 
took  off  the  leg,  high  up  the  thigh,  of  the  next  senior 
sergeant,  John  Kiernan.  He  was  afterwards  carried 
back  to  the  Alumbagh,  but  soon  died  from  the  shock. 
Kiernan  was  an  excellent  specimen  of  a  Roman  Catholic 
North  of  Ireland  soldier.  He  was  as  true  as  steel. 
Another  tragic  sight  on  that  road  was  the  death  of  a 
fine  young  gunner,  the  only  one,  I  believe,  who  wore 
an  artillery  jacket  that  day.  A  round  shot  took  his 
head  clean  off,  and  for  about  a  second  the  body  stood 
straight  up,  surmounted  by  the  red  collar,  and  then  fell 
flat  on  the  road.  But  as  fast  as  the  men  of  the  leading 
gun  detachments  were  swept  away  by  the  enemy's  fire 
I  replaced  them  by  volunteers  from  other  guns.  Several 
times  I  turned  to  the  calm,  cool,  grim  general  standing 
near,  and  asked  him  to  allow  us  to  advance,  as  we  could 
not  possibly  do  any  good  by  halting  there.  He  agreed 
with  me,  but  did  not  like  to  take  the  responsibility  of 
ordering  us  to  go  on. 

At  last  the  order  to  move  on  came,  and  Charbagh. 
bridge  was  reached.  It  was  defended  on  the  further 
side  by  a  solid  earthen  rampart  7  ft.  high,  but  with  a 
narrow  slit  in  the  middle  through  which  one  man 
at  a  time  could  pass.  It  was  armed  with  six  guns, 
two  of  them  24-pounders.  Tall  houses,  crowded  with 
musketrymen,  covered  the  bridge  with  their  fire,  and 
solid  battalions  were  drawn  up  in  its  rear.  Maude 
was  planted  with  two  of  his  guns  in  the  open,  and 
within  short  range  of  the  enemy's  battery,  and  com- 
menced a  valiant  duel  with  it.     Outram  led  the  $th 


LUCKNOW    AND   HAVELOCK  1 99 

Fusileers  by  a  detour  for  the  purpose  of  smiting 
the  battery  at  the  bridge-head  with  a  flank-fire. 
Maude's  two  guns  were  fighting  six,  at  a  distance 
of  150  yards,  and  his  gunners  fell  fast. 

Again  and  again  he  had  to  call  for  volunteers  to 
work  his  guns  from  the  Madras  Fusileers  lying  down 
under  cover  near  him.  The  guns  were  of  an  ancient 
pattern,  and  carried  a  large  leathern  pouch  full  of 
loose  powder  for  priming  uses.  "  As  the  lane  was 
very  narrow,"  says  Maude,  "the  two  guns  were  ex- 
ceedingly close  to  one  another,  and  when  in  their 
recoil  they  passed  each  other,  amid  a  shower  of 
sparks  and  smoke,  they  frequently  set  fire  to  the 
loose  powder  in  the  priming  pouches,  and  blew  the 
poor  gunners  up!"  Yet  Maude's  gallant  lads  worked 
their  guns  unflinchingly. 

Neill  stood  in  a  bay  of  a  garden  wall  close  by,  with 
his  "  blue-caps  "  lying  down  under  cover,  waiting  till 
Outram's  flanking  movement  should  tell  on  the 
enemy's  battery ;  and  Maude,  with  his  artillerymen 
almost  all  shot  down,  said  to  young  Havelock,  "Do 
something,  in  the  name  of  Heaven ! "  Havelock 
rode  through  the  tempest  of  shot  to  Neill,  and  urged 
an  immediate  rush  on  the  bridge ;  but  Neill,  with 
soldierly  coolness,  declared  he  would  not  move  with- 
out orders.  Then  young  Havelock  played  a  boyish 
and  gallant  trick.  He  rode  quietly  off,  turned  round 
a  bend  in  the  road,  and  a  moment  after  came  back 
at  a  gallop,  gave  a  smart  salute  to  Neill  as  he  pulled 


200    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

up  his  horse  on  its  haunches,  and  said,  as  though 
bringing  an  order  from  his  father,  "  You  are  to 
carry  the  bridge  at  once,  sir  1 " 

At  the  word,  Arnold,  who  commanded  the  "  blue- 
caps,"  leaped  to  his  feet  and  raced  on  to  the  bridge, 
his  men  rising  with  a  shout  and  following  him. 
Havelock  and  Tytler  overtook  him  at  a  gallop,  and 
the  bridge  in  a  moment  was  covered  with  a  mass  of 
charging  soldiers. 

But  a  blast  of  shots  from  the  guns  at  its  head — 
the  deep  bellow  of  the  24-pounders  sounding  high 
above  the  tumult — swept  the  bridge  for  a  moment 
clear.  Arnold  had  fallen  with  both  legs  smashed, 
Tytler's  horse  had  gone  down  with  its  brave  rider ; 
only  young  Havelock  and  a  corporal  of  the  Fusileers, 
named  Jakes,  stood  unhurt.  Havelock  rode  coolly 
up  to  the  rampart  of  earth,  and,  Avaving  his  sword, 
called  to  the  Fusileers  to  "  come  on  "  ;  and  Corporal 
Jakes,  as  he  busily  plied  his  musket,  shouted  to 
Havelock,  soothingly,  "  Never  fear,  sir  !  We'll  soon 
have  the  beggars  out  of  that ! "  All  this  took  but  a 
few  seconds  of  time ;  the  Sepoys  were  toiling  with 
frantic  energy  to  reload  their  guns.  Then  through 
the  white  smoke  came  the  rush  of  the  Madras  Fusi- 
leers— an  officer  leading.  Over  the  bridge,  up  the 
seven-foot  rampart,  through  the  intervals  betwixt 
the  guns  as  with  a  single  impulse,  came  the  levelled 
bayonets  and  fierce  faces  of  the  charging  British,  and 
the  bridge  was  won  ! 


LUCKNOW    AND    HAVELOCK  201 

The  entire  British  force  came  swiftly  over,  the 
78  th  was  left  to  hold  the  bridge  and  form  the  rear- 
guard, while  the  British  column  swung  round  to  the 
right  and  pushed  on  through  the  narrow  lane  that 
bordered  the  canal. 

The  78th,  while  guarding  the  bridge,  had  a  very 
trying  experience.  A  great  force  of  the  enemy  came 
down  the  Cawnpore  road  with  banners  flying  and 
loud  beating  of  drums,  and  flung  itself  with  wald 
courage  on  the  Highlanders.  A  little  stone  temple 
stood  a  hundred  yards  up  the  road,  commanding  the 
bridge ;  the  Sepoys  took  possession  of  this,  and  from 
it  galled  the  Highlanders  cruelly  with  their  fire. 
Hastings,  of  the  78th,  stepped  out  to  the  front,  and 
called  for  volunteers  to  storm  the  temple.  There 
was  an  angry  rush  of  Highlanders  up  the  road ;  the 
temple  was  carried  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
then  held  as  a  sort  of  outwork  to  the  bridge. 

The  Sepoys  next  brought  up  three  brass  guns, 
and  lashed  temple  and  road  alike  with  their  fire. 
Webster,  an  officer  of  the  78th,  famous  for  his 
swordsmanship  and  strength,  called  out,  ''  Who's  for 
these  infernal  guns  ? "  and  ran  out,  sword  in  hand. 
His  Highlanders  followed  him,  but  could  not  over- 
take Webster,  who  sprang  upon  the  guns,  and  slew  a 
gunner,  just  in  the  act  of  putting  his  linstock  to  the 
touch- hole,  with  a  stroke  so  mighty  that  it  clove  the 
Sepoy  through  skull  and  jaws  almost  to  the  collar- 
bone !      The   guns   were   captured,  dragged  with  a 


202    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

triumphant  skirl  of  tlie  pipes  to  tlie  canal,  and  flung 
in,  and  tlie  Highlanders  set  off  to  follow  the  column. 

They  did  not  follow  in  its  immediate  track,  but 
made  a  wide  sweep  to  the  right,  and  both  sections  of 
the  column,  with  much  stern  fighting,  reached  what 
was  called  the  Chutter  Munzil  Palace.  "  Here,"  says 
Forbes,  "  were  the  chiefs  of  the  little  army.  On  his 
big  '  waler '  sat  Outram,  a  splash  of  blood  across  his 
face,  and  one  arm  in  a  sling,  the  Malacca  cane,  which 
formed  his  sole  weapon  in  battle,  still  grasped  in  the 
hand  of  the  sound  limb.  Havelock,  on  foot,  was 
walking  up  and  down  on  Outram's  near  side,  with 
short  steps.  All  around  them,  at  a  little  distance, 
were  officers,  and  outside  of  the  circle  so  formed 
were  soldiers,  guns,  wounded  men,  bullocks,  camels  " 
— all  the  tumult,  in  a  word,  of  the  battle. 

Outram  and  Havelock  disagreed  as  to  the  next 
step  to  be  taken.  Outram — the  cooler  brain  of  the 
two — wished  to  halt  for  the  night,  and  then  to  push 
their  way  in  the  morning  through  the  successive 
courts  of  the  palaces  right  up  to  the  Residency. 
Havelock  was  eager  to  complete  the  day's  work, 
and  reach  the  Residency  with  a  final  and  desperate 
rush. 

A  long,  winding,  and  narrow  street  stretched  before 
them  up  to  the  Bailey  Guard  Gate,  the  entrance  to 
the  Residency.  It  was  true  that  every  cross  street 
that  broke  its  length  was  swept  by  the  fire  of  the 
enemy's  guns,  that  the  houses  were  loop-holed  and 


LUCKNOW    AND   HAVELOCK  203 

crowded  with  Sepoys,  and  from  the  flat  roofs  of  the 
houses  above  a  tempest  of  fire  would  be  poured  upon 
the  British.  But  Havelock  was  full  of  warlike  impa- 
tience. "  There  is  the  street,"  said  he ;  "  we  see  the 
worst.  We  shall  be  slated,  but  we  can  push  through, 
and  get  it  over."  Outram  acknowledged  afterwards 
that  he  ought  to  have  said,  "  Havelock,  we  have  vir- 
tually reached  the  Residency.  I  now  take  the  com- 
mand ; "  but  he  added  to  the  confession,  "  My  temper 
got  a  little  the  better  of  me,  and  I  said,  '  In  God's 
name,  then,  let  us  go  on.' " 

The  Highlanders  led,  Havelock  and  Outram  riding 
with  their  leading  files.  Brasyer's  Sikhs  followed. 
It  was,  as  Forbes  says,  "  a  true  via  dolorosa."  From 
house-roof,  from  door,  from  Avindow,  from  every  cross 
lane  poured  a  tempest  of  shot,  and  through  it  the 
British  could  only  push  with  dogged,  all-enduring 
courage,  seldom  halting  to  fire  back.  And  this 
experience  stretched  over  more  than  three-quarters 
of  a  mile !  Here  is  a  little  battle  vimette  taken 
from  Forbes : — 

In  the  foremost  company  of  the  Highland  regiment 
were  tv/o  staunch  comrades,  named  Glandell  and 
M'Donough,  Irishmen  and  Catholics  among  the  Scots 
and  Presbyterians.  In  this  street  of  death  M'Donough's 
leg  was  shattered  by  a  bullet.  He  fell,  but  was  not  left 
to  die.  His  stalwart  chum  raised  the  wounded  man,  took 
him  on  his  back,  and  trudged  on  with  his  heavy  burden. 
Nor  did  the  hale  man,  thus  encumbered,  permit  himself  to 
be  a  non-combatant.     When  a  chance  offered  him  to  fire 


204   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

a  shot,  Glandell  propped  bis  wounded  comrade  up  against 
some  wall,  and  would  betake  himself  to  his  rifle,  while 
it  could  be  of  service.  Then  he  would  pick  M'Donough  up 
again,  and  stagger  cheerily  onward,  till  the  well-deserved 
goal  of  safety  was  reached. 

The  road  at  one  point  ran  under  an  archway,  and 
here  Neill  met  with  his  death-shot.  He  drew  up  his 
horse  by  the  arch  quite  coolly,  and  was  steadying  the 
soldiers  as  they  swept  tlirough  it.  A  Sepo}^  loaned 
forward  from  a  window  above  the  arch,  with  his 
musket  almost  touching  Neill's  head.  Neill  sat  with 
his  face  turned  to  his  shoulder,  watching  a  gun  going 
through  the  archway,  when  the  Sepoy  fired.  His 
bullet  struck  the  side  of  Neill's  head  above  the  ear, 
and  killed  him  instantly.  Out  of  the  tumult  and 
passion  of  the  figlit  thus  dropped,  in  a  moment,  this 
most  gallant  of  soldiers. 

Still  the  fierce  fight  raged.  Still,  beaten  with  a 
tempest  of  shot,  the  tormented  column  pushed  on 
its  dogged  way.  Suddenly  from  the  head  of  the 
column  rose  a  mighty  shout.  It  was  not  the  cry  of 
soldiers  at  the  charge,  full  of  the  wrath  of  battle. 
It  was  a  great  cry  of  exultation  and  triumph. 
Through  the  grey  twilight,  dark  with  eddying 
smoke,  the  leading  files  of  the  British  had  seen 
the  battered  archway  of  the  Bailey  Guard.  The 
goal  was  reached. 

The  beleaguered  garrison  had  listened,  with  what 
eagerness  may  be  imagined,  to  the  tumult  of  the 


LUCKNOW   AND    HAVELOCK  20  5 

fight  as  it  crept  nearer  them.  Its  smoke  was  blowing 
over  their  defences.  Those  who  watched  the  advance 
from  the  Residency  could  measure  the  approach  of 
the  relieving  force  by  the  attitudes  and  gestures  of 
the  Sepoys  on  the  house-tops,  as  they  fired  furiously 
down  on  the  gallant  column  forcing  its  way  along  the 
streets  beneath  them.  The  storm  of  sound  grew 
louder,  clearer,  deeper.  Suddenly,  through  the 
smoke  and  twilight,  they  caught  a  glimpse  of 
figures  on  horseback,  the  gleam  of  bayonets,  the 
white  faces  and  red  uniforms  of  British  soldiers. 
An  earthwork  blocked  the  Bailey  Gate  itself,  but 
the  handful  of  men  acting  as  the  garrison  of  the 
gate,  pulled  hurriedly  back  from  its  ragged  embra- 
sure in  the  wall,  to  the  left  of  the  entrance,  one  of 
the  guns,  and  through  that  embrasure — Outram,  on 
his  big  Australian  horse,  leading — came  the  High- 
landers, with  Havelock  and  his  staff;  then  the 
Sikhs;  then  the  Fusileers.  The  Residency  was 
reached ! 

How  the  shout  of  exultation  ran  round  the 
seventeen  shot-battered  posts  of  the  long-besieged 
entrenchments  can  be  imagined.  The  women,  the 
children,  the  very  sick  in  the  hospital,  lent  their 
voices  to  that  shout.  The  Highlanders,  who  came 
first,  poured  their  Celtic  exclamations  and  blessings 
on  the  men  and  women  they  had  rescued.  "  We 
expected  to  have  found  only  your  bones,"  said  one. 
That  the  children  were  still  alive  filled  the  gallant 


206        THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

but  soft-liearted  Highlanders  with  amazed  joy.  "  The 
big,  rough-bearded  soldiers,"  wrote  one  of  the  rescued 
ladies,  "were  seizing  the  little  children  out  of  our 
arms,  kissing  them  with  tears  runnifig  down  their 
cheeks,  and  thanking  God  that  they  had  come  in 
time  to  save  them  from  the  fate  of  those  at 
Cawnpore." 

Let  it  be  remembered  that  for  more  than  eighty 
days  the  garrison  had  lived  under  the  shadow  of 
death.  No  message,  no  whisper  of  news,  from  the 
outside  world  had  reached  them.  Their  rescuers 
were  men  of  the  same  name  and  blood,  who  had 
fought  their  way  as  if  through  the  flames  of  the  Pit 
to  reach  and  save  them  !  And  into  what  a  mood  of 
passionate  joy  amongst  the  delivered,  and  of  pas- 
sionate exultation  and  triumph  amongst  the  deli- 
verers, the  crowd  which  thronged  the  Eesidency  that 
night  was  lifted  may  be  more  easily  imagined  than 
described.  It  was  a  night  worth  living  for;  almost 
worth  dying  for. 

Lady  Inglis  has  told  how  she  listened  to  the 
tremendous  cheering  that  welcomed  the  British 
across  the  Kesidency  lines,  and  how  her  husband 
brought  up  "a  short,  quiet-looking,  grey-haired 
man,"  who  she  guessed  at  once  was  Havelock.  It 
was  a  great  triumph,  but  a  great  price  Avas  paid  for  it. 
The  relieving  column,  out  of  its  3000  men,  lost  in 
killed  or  wounded  more  than  700,  nearly  one  in  every 
four  of  its  whole  number  ! 


LUCKNOW   AND   HAYELOCK  20/ 

One  unfortunate  incident  marked  the  relief.  As 
the  Highlanders  approached  the  Bailey  Guard  Gate 
they  took  Aitken's  men  of  the  13  th  for  the  enemy, 
and  leaped  upon  them  with  gleaming  and  angry 
bayonets,  and  slew  some  before  their  blunder  was 
discovered.  It  was  never  imagined  that  the  very 
outpost  of  the  heroic  garrison  would  be  found  to 
consist  of  Sepoys,  fighting  with  such  long-enduring 
loyalty  against  their  own  countrymen.  It  was  a  very 
cruel  fate  for  these  faithful  Sepoys  to  perish  under 
the  bayonets  of  the  relieving  force. 

Still  another  remarkable  incident  may  be  described. 
A  cluster  of  doolies,  with  wounded  officers  and  men, 
lost  its  way  in  the  tangled  streets  and  was  cut  off. 
Nine  men  of  the  escort,  with  five  wounded,  took 
refuge  in  a  small  building  which  formed  one  side  of 
the  gateway  where  Neill  had  been  shot;  and  for  a 
whole  day  and  night  they  defended  themselves 
against  overwhelming  numbers.  Dr.  Home,  of  the 
90th,  was  one  of  the  party,  and  has  left  a  graphic 
account  of  what  is  perhaps  the  most  brilliant  little 
incident  in  the  whole  history  of  the  siege. 

The  Sepoys  kept  up  a  bitter  and  tireless  fire  on  the 
single  doorway  of  the  room  held  by  the  nine.  One  of 
the  British,  a  Fusileer  named  M'Manus,  stood  outside 
the  doorway,  sheltering  himself  behind  a  pillar,  and 
shot  down  man  after  man  of  the  enemy.  So  cool  and 
quick  and  deadly  was  his  fire  that  the  Sepoys  feared 
to  make  a  rush.     At  last  their  leader,  to  encourage 


208    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

tliem,  shouted  there  were  but  three  sahibs  in  the 
house,  whereupon  the  whole  fourteen,  wounded  in- 
ckided,  joined  in  a  loud  cheer  to  undeceive  them. 
Captain  Arnold,  of  the  Fusileers,  lay  wounded  in  one 
of  the  abandoned  doolies  visible  through  the  door- 
way. Two  gallant  privates,  Ryan  and  M'Manus, 
charged  out  through  the  fire  and  carried  their 
officer  into  the  house.  They  ran  out  a  second  time 
and  brought  in  a  wounded  private ;  but  in  each  case 
the  comrade  they  carried  was  mortally  wounded  while 
in  their  arms. 

Again  and  again  some  leader  of  the  Sepoys  ran  out, 
heading  a  charge  on  the  doorway ;  but  each  time  the 
leader  was  shot,  and  the  Sepoys  fell  back.  The  sorely 
beleaguered  party  was  rescued  the  next  morning.  Just 
when  hope  seemed  to  have  abandoned  them,  a  new 
blast  of  musketry  volleys  was  heard  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, and  one  of  the  Fusileers  recognised  the  regular 
sound.  He  jumped  up,  shouting,  "  Oh,  boys,  them's 
our  own  chaps  !  " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    COLIN    CAMPBELL 

HAVELOCK  fought  his  way  through  blood  and 
tire  into  the  Residency,  but  he  shrank  from 
leading  a  great  procession  of  women  and  children 
and  wounded  men  along  that  via  dolorosa — that 
pathway  of  blood — by  which,  at  so  grim  a  cost,  he 
had  himself  reached  the  belea2:uered  o^arrison.  The 
Residency,  it  was  clear,  must  be  held,  since  the  great 
company  of  helpless  women  and  children  it  sheltered 
could  not  be  carried  off.  So  what  Havelock  and 
Outram  really  accomplished  was  not  so  much  a  Relief 
as  a  Reinforcement. 

Outram  assumed  the  command,  and  for  six  weeks 
the  greatly-strengthened  garrison  held  its  own  with 
comparative  ease  against  the  revolted  swarms,  reck- 
oned— uncertainly — at  no  less  than  60,000  strong, 
who  still  maintained  a  sullen  blockade  of  the 
Residency. 

Early  in  November  reinforcements  were  pouring 

in  froni  England,  and  a  new  actor  appeared  on  the 

scene.     The  crisis  of  the  Mutiny  called  to  the  post 

of  commander-in-chief  in  India  the  best  soldier  Great 

Britain  possessed.     Colin  Campbell  was  not,  perhaps, 

209  Q 


2  10    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GKEAT  MUTINY 

a  great  general,  in  tlie  sense  in  wliich  Sir  Jolin 
Moore,  or  Wellington,  or  Sir  Charles  Napier  were 
generals.  But  lie  was  a  tough,  hard-fighting,  much- 
experienced  soldier,  with  that  combination  of  wari- 
ness and  fire  which  marks  the  Scotch  genius  for 
battle.  What  he  did  not  know  of  the  details  of  a 
soldier's  business  might  almost  be  described  as  not 
worth  knowing.  He  had  served  his  apprenticeship 
to  war  in  the  perils  and  hardships  of  Moore's  retreat 
to  Corunna.  A  list  of  the  battles  and  sieges  in  which 
he  took  part  would  cover  almost  the  entire  military 
history  of  Great  Britain  between  Corunna  and  the 
Crimea.  His  cool  skill  and  daring  as  a  soldier  are 
picturesquely  illustrated  by  the  famous  "  thin  red 
line "  incident  at  Balaclava ;  where,  disdaining  to 
throw  his  troops  into  square,  he  received  a  charge 
of  Kussian  cavalry  on  a  thin  extended  front,  and 
smote  the  assailing  squadron  into  fragments  with  a 
single  blast  of  musketry. 

Colin  Campbell  was  sixty-five  years  of  age,  and 
regarded  his  military  career  as  over;  but  on  July  1 1, 
when  the  news  of  General  Anson's  death  reached 
England,  Lord  Panmure  offered  Campbell  the  chief 
command  in  India,  and  with  characteristic  prompti- 
tude the  Scottish  veteran  offered  to  start  for  India 
the  same  afternoon !  Campbell  landed  at  Calcutta 
on  August  1 3,  spent  some  weeks  there  in  "  organising 
victory " — or,  rather,  in  reorganising  the  whole  shat- 
tered  military   system   of   the   Presidency — and   on 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   COLIN    CAMPBELL     2 1  I 

October  27  hurried  to  the  seat  of  war.  He  reached 
Cawnpore  on  Noveraber  3,  and  on  the  9th  set  out  to 
relieve  Lucknow.  "  Our  friends  in  Lucknow,"  he 
wrote  to  his  sister,  "  have  food  only  for  live  or  six 
days."  This  was  a  mistake  that  cost  the  lives  of 
many  brave  men.  Lawrence  had  provisioned  the 
Residency  better  than  was  imagined.  But  the  delu- 
sion of  imminent  starvation,  which  made  Havelock 
fight  his  way  at  such  desperate  speed  and  cost 
into  Lucknow,  still  prevailed,  and  governed  British 
strategy.  Delhi  had  fallen  by  September  20  —  a 
story  yet  to  be  told — and  part  of  its  besieging  force 
was  thus  available  for  a  new  march  on  Lucknow. 

On  the  afternoon  of  November  1 1  Campbell  re- 
viewed the  relieving  force  at  Buntera.  It  was  modest 
in  numbers — counting  only  about  4700  men.  But 
war-hardened,  and  full  of  fiery  yet  disciplined  daring, 
it  was  as  eflficient  for  all  the  purposes  of  battle  as 
Napoleon's  Old  Guard  or  Wellington's  famous  Light 
Division.  The  cavalry  brigade  included  two  squad- 
rons of  the  9th  Lancers,  Hodson's  Horse,  and  three 
squadrons  of  native  cavalry.  The  Naval  Brigade 
was  under  Peel,  the  third  son  of  the  great  Prime 
Minister  of  England,  one  of  the  most  daring  yet 
gentle  spirits  that  ever  fought  and  died  for  Eng- 
land. Evelyn  Wood,  who  served  under  him  as  middy 
in  the  Crimea,  describes  him  as  "  the  bravest  of  the 
brave,"  and  yet  "  an  ideal  English  gentleman."  "  His 
dark  brown  wavy  hair  was  carefully  brushed  back, 


2  12    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

disclosing  a  perfectly  oval  face,  a  high  square  fore- 
head, and  deep  blue-grey  eyes,  which  flashed  when 
he  was  talking  eagerly,  as  he  often  did."  The  Artil- 
lery Brigade  consisted  of  five  batteries.  The  infantry 
was  made  up  of  detachments  from  the  4th,  the  5th, 
the  23rd  Fusileers,  a  wing  of  the  53rd,  part  of  the 
82nd,  and  the  full  strength  of  the  93rd  Highlanders, 
with  some  Sikh  regiments. 

The  93rd  was  1000  strong,  and  700  men  in  the 
ranks  carried  the  Crimean  medal  on  their  breasts. 
It  has  been  described  as  "  the  most  Scotch  of  all 
the  Hio'hland  reoiments,"  and  a  strong  reliofious — as 
well  as  a  rich  Celtic — strain  ran  through  its  ranks. 
Forbes-Mitchell,  indeed,  who  marched  in  its  ranks, 
says  the  regiment  constituted  a  sort  of  military 
Highland  parish,  ministers  and  elders  complete. 
The  elders  were  selected  from  among  the  men  of  all 
ranks,  two  sergeants,  two  corporals,  and  two  privates. 
It  had  a  regular  service  of  communion  plate,  and  the 
communion  was  administered  to  the  whole  regiment 
by  its  cha^^lain  twice  a  year. 

The  93rd  was  drawn  up  in  quarter-distance  column 
on  the  extreme  left  of  the  line  as  Colin  Campbell  rode 
down  to  review  his  forces  that  November  afternoon. 
It  was  in  full  Highland  costume,  with  kilts  and 
bonnets  and  wind-blown  plumes.  Campbell's  Celtic 
blood  kindled  when  he  reached  the  Highlanders. 
"  Ninety-third ! "  he  said,  "  you  are  my  own  lads ;  I 
rely  on  you  to  do  the  work."     And  a  voice  from  the 


LUCKNOW    AND   SIR    COLIN    CAMPBELL     213 

ranks  in  broadest  Doric  answered,  "  Ay,  ay.  Sir  Colin, 
ye  ken  us  and  we  ken  you ;  we'll  bring  the  women 
and  children  out  of  Lucknow  or  die  wi'  you  in  the 
attempt."  And  then  from  the  steady  ranks  of  the 
Highlanders  there  broke  a  shout,  sudden  and  deep 
and  stern,  the  shout  of  valiant  men — the  men  of  the 
hardy  North — pledging  themselves  to  valiant  deeds. 

Here  is  the  description  given  by  an  eye-witness 
of  the  little  army,  less  than  5000  strong,  but  of 
such  magnificent  fighting  quality,  down  whose  ranks 
Colin  Campbell  rode  as  the  November  sun  was  going 
down : — 

The  field-guns  from  Delhi  looked  blackened  and  ser- 
vice-worn ;  but  the  horses  were  in  good  condition,  and  the 
harness  in  perfect  repair  ;  the  gunners  bronzed,  stalwart, 
and  in  perfect  fighting  case.  The  gth  Lancers,  with  their 
gallant  bearing,  their  flagless  lances,  and  their  lean  but 
hardy  horses,  looked  the  perfection  of  regular  cavalry  on 
active  service.  Wild  and  bold  was  the  bearing  of  the  Sikh 
horsemen,  clad  in  loose  fawn-coloured  dress,  with  long  boots, 
blue  or  red  turbans  and  sashes ;  and  armed  with  carbine 
and  tulwar.  Next  to  them  were  the  worn  and  wasted 
remains  of  the  8th  and  75th  Queen's,  who,  with  wearied 
air,  stood  grouped  under  their  colours.  Then  came  the  two 
regiments  of  Punjab  infantry,  tall  of  stature,  with  fierce 
eager  eyes  under  their  huge  turbans — men  swift  in  the 
march,  forward  in  the  fight,  and  eager  for  the  pillage.  On 
the  left  of  the  line,  in  massive  serried  ranks,  a  waving  sea 
of  plumes  and  tartan,  stood  the  93rd  Highlanders,  who 
with  loud  and  rapturous  cheers  welcomed  the  veteran  com- 
mander whom  they  knew  so  well  and  loved  so  warmly. 


2  14   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

On  November  1 2  Campbell  had  reached  the  Alum- 
bagh,  and,  halting  there,  decided  on  the  line  of  his 
advance  to  the  Residency.  Instead  of  advancing 
direct  on  the  city,  and  fighting  his  way  through  loop- 
holed  and  narrow  lanes,  each  one  a  mere  valley  of 
death,  he  proposed  to  swing  round  to  the  right,  march 
in  a  wide  curve  through  the  open  ground,  and  seize 
what  was  known  as  the  Dilkusha  Park,  a  great  en- 
closed garden,  surrounded  by  a  wall  20  feet  high, 
a  little  over  two  miles  to  the  east  of  the  Residency. 
Using  this  as  his  base,  he  would  next  move  round  to 
the  north  of  the  city,  forcing  his  way  through  a  series 
of  strong  posts,  the  most  formidable  of  which  were 
the  Secundrabagh  and  the  Shah  Nujeef,  and  so  reach 
the  Residency.  And  the  story  of  the  fighting  at  those 
two  points  makes  up  the  tragedy  and  glory  of  the 
Relief  of  Lucknow. 

Outram,  of  course,  was  not  the  man  to  lie  inertly 
within  his  defences  while  Campbell  was  moving  to 
his  relief.  He  had  already  sent  plans  of  the  city  and 
its  approaches,  with  suggestions  as  to  the  best  route, 
to  Campbell  by  means  of  a  spy,  and  he  was  prepared 
to  break  out  on  the  line  by  which  the  relieving  force 
Avas  to  advance.  But  if  Campbell  could  be  supplied 
with  a  guide,  who  kncAv  the  city  as  he  knew  the  palm 
of  his  own  hand,  this  Avould  be  an  enormous  advan- 
tage ;  and  exactly  such  a  guide  at  this  moment  pre- 
sented himself.  A  civilian  named  Kavanagh  offered 
to  undertake  this  desperate  mission. 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    COLIN    CAMPBELL     21  5 

Kavanagh  was  an  Irishman,  a  clerk  in  one  of  the 
civil  offices,  and  apparently  possessed  a  hundred  dis- 
qualifications for  the  business  of  making  his  way,  dis- 
guised as  a  native,  through  the  dark-faced  hordes 
that  kept  sleepless  watch  round  the  Residency,  and 
through  the  busy  streets  of  Lucknow  beyond.  He 
was  a  big-limbed,  fair  man,  with  aggressively  red 
hair,  and  uncompromisingly  blue  eyes  !  By  what  his- 
trionic art  could  he  be  "  translated,"  in  Shakespeare's 
sense,  into  a  spindle-shanked,  narrow-shouldered, 
dusky-skinned  Oude  peasant  ?  But  Kavanagh  was  a 
man  of  quenchless  courage,  with  a  more  than  Irish 
delight  in  deeds  of  daring,  and  he  had  a  perfect  know- 
ledofe  of  native  dialect  and  character.  He  has  left  a 
narrative  of  his  adventure. 

A  spy  had  come  in  from  Campbell,  and  was  to 
return  that  night,  and  Kavanagh  conceived  the  idea 
of  going  out  with  him,  and  acting  as  guide  to  the 
relieving  force.  Outram  hesitated  to  permit  the 
attempt  to  be  made,  declaring  it  to  be  too  dangerous ; 
but  Kavanagh's  eagerness  for  the  adventure  prevailed. 
He  hid  the  whole  scheme  from  his  wife,  and,  at  half- 
past  seven  o'clock  that  evening,  when  he  entered  Out- 
ram's  headquarters,  he  was  so  perfectly  disguised  that 
nobody  recognised  him.  He  had  blackened  his  face, 
neck,  and  arms  with  lamp-black,  mixed  with  a  little 
oil.  His  red  hair,  which  even  lamp-black  and  oil 
could  hardly  subdue  to  a  colder  tint,  was  concealed 
beneath  a  husfe  turban.     His  dress  was  that  of  a 


2l6        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

budmasli,  or  irregular  native  soldier,  with  sword  and 
shield,  tight  trousers,  a  yellow-coloured  chintz  sheet 
thrown  over  the  shoulders,  and  a  white  cummerbund. 

A  little  after  eight  o'clock  Kavanagh,  with  his  native 
guide,  crept  to  the  bank  of  the  Goomtee,  which  ran 
to  the  north  of  the  Residency  entrenchment.  The 
river  was  a  hundred  yards  wide,  and  between  four 
feet  and  five  feet  deep.  Both  men  stripped,  crept 
down  the  bank,  and  slipped,  as  silently  as  otters,  into 
the  stream.  Here  for  a  moment,  as  Kavanagh  in  his 
narrative  confesses,  his  courage  failed  him.  The 
shadowy  bank  beyond  the  black  river  was  held  by 
some  60,000  merciless  enemies.  He  had  to  pass 
through  their  camps  and  guards,  and  through  miles 
of  city  streets  beyond.  If  detected,  he  would  certainly 
perish  by  torture.  "  If  my  guide  had  been  within  my 
reach,"  he  says,  "  I  should  perhaps  have  pulled  him 
back  and  abandoned  the  enterprise."  But  the  guide 
was  already  vanishing,  a  sort  of  crouching  shadow, 
into  the  blackness  of  the  further  bank ;  and,  harden- 
ing his  heart,  Kavanagh  stole  on  through  the  sliding 
gloom  of  the  river. 

Both  men  crept  up  a  ditch  that  pierced  the  river- 
bank  to  a  cluster  of  trees,  and  there  dressed ;  and 
then,  with  his  tulwar  on  his  shoulder  and  the  swagger 
of  a  budmash,  Kavanagh  went  boldly  forward  with 
his  guide.  A  matchlock  man  first  met  the  adventu- 
rous pair  and  peered  suspiciously  at  them  from  under 
his  turban.     Kavanagh  in  a  loud  voice  volunteered 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    COLIN    CAMPBELL     217 

the  remark  that "  the  night  was  cold,"  and  passed  on. 
They  had  to  cross  the  h'on  bridge  which  spanned  the 
Goomtee,  and  the  officer  on  guard  challenged  them 
lazily  from  the  balcony  of  a  two-storeyed  house. 
Kavanagh  himself  hung  back  in  the  shade,  while  his 
guide  went  forward  and  told  the  story  of  how  they 
belonged  to  a  village  some  miles  distant,  and  were 
going  to  the  city  from  their  homes. 

They  were  allowed  to  pass,  ran  the  gauntlet  of 
many  troops  of  Sepoys,  re-crossed  the  Goomtee  by 
what  was  called  the  stone  bridge,  and  passed  unsus- 
pected along  the  principal  street  of  Lucknow,  jostling 
their  way  through  the  crowds,  and  so  reached  the 
open  fields  beyond  the  city.  "I  had  not  been  in 
green  fields,"  writes  Kavanagh,  "for  five  months. 
Everything  around  us  smelt  sweet,  and  a  carrot  I 
took  from  the  roadside  was  the  most  delicious  thing 
I  had  ever  tasted  ! "  But  it  was  difficult  to  find  their 
way  in  the  night.  They  wandered  into  the  Dilkusha 
Park,  and  stumbled  upon  a  battery  of  guns,  which 
Kavanagh,  to  the  terror  of  his  guide,  insisted  upon 
inspecting. 

They  next  blundered  into  the  canal,  but  still  wan- 
dered on,  till  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  guard  of 
twenty-five  Sepoys,  and  Kavanagh's  guide,  in  his 
terror,  dropped  in  the  dust  of  the  road  the  letter  he 
was  carrying  from  Outram  to  Campbell.  Kavanagh, 
however,  kept  his  coolness,  and  after  some  parleying 
he   and   his  guide  were  allowed  to  pass  on.      The 


2l8    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

much-enduring  pair  next  found  themselves  entangled 
in  a  swamp,  and,  waist-deep  in  its  slime  and  weeds, 
they  struggled  on  for  two  hours,  when  they  reached 
solid  ground  again.  Kavanagh  insisted  on  lying 
down  to  rest  for  a  time.  Next  they  crept  between 
some  Sepoy  pickets  which,  with  true  native  careless- 
ness, had  thrown  out  no  sentries,  and  finally,  just  as 
the  eastern  sky  was  growing  white  with  the  coming 
day,  the  two  adventurers  heard  the  challenge,  "  Who 
comes  there  ? "  from  under  the  shadow  of  a  great 
tree ! 

It  was  a  British  cavalry  picket,  and  Kavanagh 
had  soon  the  happiness  of  pouring  into  Sir  Colin 
Campbell's  ears  the  messages  and  information  he 
brought,  while  a  flag,  hoisted  at  twelve  o'clock  on 
the  summit  of  the  Alumbagh,  told  Outram  that  his 
messenger  had  succeeded,  and  that  both  the  garri- 
son and  the  relieving  force  had  now  a  common 
plan.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  a  higher  example  of 
human  courage  than  that  supplied  by  "Lucknow" 
Kavanagh,  as  he  was  afterwards  called,  and  never 
was  the  Victoria  Cross  better  won. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  15  th  Campbell  made  an 
elaborate  reconnaissance  on  his  extreme  left,  and  all 
night  he  thundered  in  that  direction  with  his  guns, 
and  the  enemy  gathered  in  full  strength  on  that  line, 
persuaded  that  the  British  would  advance  on  it. 
But  by  daybreak  on  the  i6th  Campbell  was  moving 
off,  light-footed  and  swift,  by  his  right,  exactly  where 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    COLIN    CAMPBELL     219 

the  enemy  did  not  expect  him !  He  had  Uttle  over 
3000  bayonets  in  his  force,  but  he  Avas  strong  in 
artillery,  counting  in  all  thirty-nine  guns,  six  mortars, 
and  two  rocket-tubes,  and  he  hoped  to  smash  by  the 
weight  of  his  fire  every  obstacle  that  stood  in  his 
path  to  the  Residency.  Yet,  be  it  remembered,  he 
was  moving  on  the  arc  of  a  great  fortified  central 
position,  held  by  a  hostile  force  not  less  than  60,000 
strong,  or  more  than  fifteen  times  more  numerous 
than  his  own. 

Blunt's  guns  and  a  company  of  the  53rd  formed 
Campbell's  advance-guard.  They  crossed  the  canal, 
followed  for  a  mile  the  river-bank,  and  then  swung 
sharply  to  the  left  by  a  road  which  ran  parallel  to 
the  rear  of  the  Secundrabagh.  This  was  a  great 
garden,  150  yards  on  each  face,  with  walls  twenty 
feet  high,  and  a  circular  bastion  at  each  angle,  and 
from  its  rear  face,  as  the  head  of  the  British  column 
came  in  sight,  broke  an  angry  tempest  of  musket- 
shot,  a  fire  which,  it  must  be  remembered,  smote  the 
advancing  British  column  on  the  flank.  Cavalry  and 
infantry  were  helpless  in  the  narrow  lane,  and  some- 
thing like  a  "jam"  took  place.  Blunt,  however,  an 
officer  of  great  daring,  with  an  enthusiastic  belief 
that  British  guns  could  go  anywhere  and  do  anything, 
cut  the  knot  of  the  difficulty.  The  bank  of  the  lane 
was  so  steep  that  it  seemed  impossible  that  horses 
and  guns  could  climb  it,  but  Blunt,  with  cool  decision, 
put  the  oruns  in  motion,  swung  the  horses'  heads 


2  20    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

sharply  round,  and,  with  whip  and  spur  and  shout, 
his  gunners  drove  the  snorting,  panting  horses  up  the 
bank  into  the  open  space  under  the  fire  of  the 
Secundrabagfh. 

Travers,  with  two  of  his  i8-pounders,  came  stum- 
bhng  and  struggHng  up  the  steep  bank  after  Bhmt. 
The  guns  were  swung  round,  and,  within  musket- 
shot  distance  of  the  crowded  walls  and  under  a 
tempest  of  bullets,  they  opened  a  breaching  fire 
on  the  face  of  the  Secundrabaofh.  The  British  in- 
fan  try  meanwhile,  lying  down  under  the  bank  of 
the  lane,  waited  for  the  moment  of  assault.  Forbes- 
Mitchell  gives  a  very  realistic  picture  of  the  march 
up  the  lane,  and  the  waiting  under  the  shelter  of 
a  low  mud- wall  while  the  breach  was  being  made, 
through  Avhich  they  must  charge.  Campbell  him- 
self, before  the  men  moved  up,  had  given  amusingly 
prosaic  instructions  as  to  how  they  were  to  fight. 
When  they  swept  into  the  Secundrabagh  they  were 
to  "keep  together  in  clusters  of  threes,  and  rely  on 
nothing  but  the  bayonet."  The  central  man  of  each 
group  of  three  was  to  attack,  and  his  comrades,  right 
and  left,  guard  him  with  their  bayonets,  &c. 

As  the  93rd  moved  up  the  lane,  Forbes-Mitchell 
relates  how  they  saw  sitting  on  the  roadside  a  naked 
Hindu,  with  shaven  head  and  face  streaked  with 
white  and  red  paint,  busy  counting  his  rosary,  and 
unmoved  by  the  tumult  of  battle.  A  Highlander 
said  to  a  young  staff-officer  who  was  just  passing, 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    COLIN    CAMPBELL     22  1 

"I  would  like  to  try  my  bayonet  on  the  hide  of 
that  painted  scoundrel,  sir ;  he  looks  a  murderer." 
"Don't  touch  him,"  answered  the  staff-officer,  "he 
is  a  harmless  Hindu  mendicant;  it  is  the  Moham- 
medans who  are  to  blame  for  the  horrors  of  the 
Mutiny."  Scarcely  had  he  spoken  the  words  when 
the  Hindu  stopped  counting  his  beads,  slipped  his 
hands  under  the  mat  on  which  he  sat,  and,  with 
a  single  movement,  drew  out  a  short  bell-mouthed 
blunderbuss  and  fired  into  the  unfortunate  staff- 
officer's  breast,  killing  him  instantly,  and  himself 
dying  a  moment  afterwards,  under  the  reddened 
bayonets  of  half-a-dozen  furious  Highlanders. 

Sir  Colin  Campbell  himself  stood  by  the  guns, 
watching  the  balls  tearing  away  flakes  from  the 
stubborn  bricks  which  formed  the  immense  thick- 
ness of  the  wall.  Every  now  and  then  he  repressed 
the  eagerness  of  the  Highlanders  or  Sikhs,  waiting 
to  make  their  rush.  "  Lie  down,  93rd ! "  he  said. 
"  Lie  down  !  Every  man  of  you  is  worth  his  weight 
in  gold  to  England  to-day."  For  nearly  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  that  strange  scene  lasted,  the 
British  guns  battering  the  tough  brick  wall,  while 
from  hundreds  of  loopholes  a  tempest  of  bullets 
scourged  the  toiling  gunners.  Twice  over  the  de- 
tachments at  the  guns  had  to  be  renewed  before 
the  breach  could  be  made. 

The  crouching  infantry  meanwhile  could  hardly 
be  restrained.     A  sergeant   of  the    53  rd,  a  Welsh- 


222    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

man  named  Dobbin,  called  out,  "Let  the  infantry 
storm,  Sir  Colin !  Let  the  two  Thirds  at  them  " — 
meaning  the  53rd  and  93rd — "  and  we'll  soon  make 
short  work  of  the  murdering  villains."  Campbell, 
always  good-tempered  when  the  bullets  were  flying, 
recognised  the  man,  and  asked,  "  Do  you  think  the 
breach  is  wide  enouofh,  Dobbin  ? " 

The  three  regiments  waiting  for  the  rush  were 
the  53rd,  the  93rd,  and  a  Sikh  regiment — the  4th 
Rifles;  and  suddenly  they  leaped  up  and  joined  in 
one  eager  dash  at  the  slowly  widening  breach. 
Whether  the  signal  to  advance  was  given  at  all 
is  doubtful,  and  which  regiment  led,  and  which 
brave  soldier  was  first  through  the  breach,  are  all 
equally  doubtful  points. 

Malleson  says  the  rush  on  the  Secundrabagh  was 
"  the  most  wonderful  scene  witnessed  in  the  war." 
No  order  was  given ;  but  suddenly  the  Sikhs  and 
the  Highlanders  were  seen  racing  for  the  breach  at 
full  speed,  bonneted  Highlander  and  brown-faced 
Sikh  straining  every  nerve  to  reach  it  first.  A  Sikh 
of  the  4th  Rifles,  he  adds,  outran  the  leading  High- 
lander, leaped  through  the  breach,  and  was  shot 
dead  as  he  sprang.  An  ensign  of  the  93rd,  named 
Cooper,  was  a  good  second,  and,  leaping  feet  first 
through  the  hole  like  a  gymnast,  got  safely  through. 

Hope  Grant  says  that  "  before  the  order  was  given 
a  native  Sikh  oflicer  started  forward,  sword  in  hand, 
followed  by  his  men."     The   93rd  determined  not 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   COLIN    CAMPBELL     223 

to  let  the  Sikhs  out  charge  them,  and  instantly  ran 
forward.  The  Sikhs  had  a  few  yards'  start,  but  "  a 
sergeant  of  the  93rd,  Sergeant-Major  Murray,  a  fine 
active  fellow,  outstripped  them,  jumped  through  the 
opening  like  a  harlequin,  and,  as  he  landed  on  the 
other  side,  was  shot  through  the  breast  and  fell 
dead."  Archibald  Forbes  says  the  first  man  through 
the  breach  was  an  Irishman,  Lance-Corporal  Don- 
nelly, of  the  93rd,  killed  as  he  jumped  through  the 
breach ;  the  second  was  a  Sikh,  the  third  a  Scotch- 
man, Sergeant- Major  Murray,  also  killed.  Who  shall 
decide  when  there  is  such  a  conflict  of  testimony 
betwixt  the  very  actors  in  the  great  scene ! 

Roberts  confirms  Hope  Grant  in  the  statement 
that  a  Highlander  was  the  first  to  reach  the  goal,  and 
was  shot  dead  as  he  reached  the  enclosure ;  and  he 
adds  one  curiously  pathetic  detail.  A  drummer-boy 
of  the  93rd,  he  says,  "  must  have  been  one  of  the  first 
to  pass  that  grim,  boundary  between  life  and  death ; 
for  when  I  got  in  I  found  him  just  inside  the  breach, 
lying  on  his  back,  quite  dead,  a  pretty,  innocent-look- 
ing, fair-haired  lad,  not  more  than  fourteen  years 
old."  What  daring  must  have  burned  in  that  lad's 
Scottish  blood  when  he  thus  took  his  place  in  the 
very  van  of  the  wild  rush  of  veterans  into  the  Sec- 
undrabagh ! 

Forbes-Mitchell,  who  actually  took  part  in  the 
charge,  gives  yet  another  account.  The  order  to 
charge,  he  says,  was  given,  and  the  Sikhs,  who  caught 


2  24    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

it  first,  leaped  over  the  mud-wall,  behind  which  they 
were  lying,  shouting  their  war-cry,  and,  led  by  their 
two  British  officers,  ran  eagerly  towards  the  breach. 
Both  their  officers  were  shot  before  they  had  run 
many  yards,  and  at  that  the  Sikhs  halted.  "As  soon 
as  Sir  Colin  saw  them  waver,  he  turned  to  the  93rd, 
and  said,  '  Colonel  Ewart,  bring  on  the  tartan !  Let 
my  own  lads  at  them.' "  Before  the  command  could 
be  repeated,  or  the  buglers  had  time  to  sound  the 
advance,  "  the  whole  seven  companies  like  one  man 
leaped  over  the  wall  with  such  a  yell  of  pent-up  rage 
as  I  never  heard  before  nor  since.  It  was  not  a  cheer, 
but  a  concentrated  yell  of  rage  and  ferocity,  that 
made  the  echoes  ring  again ;  and  it  must  have  struck 
terror  into  the  defenders,  for  they  actually  ceased 
firing,  and  we  could  see  them  through  the  breach 
rushing'  from  the  outside  wall  to  take  shelter  in  the 
two-storeyed  building  in  the  centre  of  the  garden, 
the  gate  and  doors  of  which  they  firmly  barred." 

The  Secundrabagh,  it  must  be  remembered,  was 
held  by  four  strong  Sepoy  regiments,  numbering  in 
all  from  2000  to  3000  men,  many  of  them  veteran 
soldiers,  wearing  the  medals  they  had  won  in  British 
service,  and  they  fought  with  desperate  courage. 
The  human  jet  of  stormers  through  the  gap  in  the 
v/all  was  a  mere  tiny  squirt,  but  the  main  body  of 
the  93rd  blew  in  the  lock  of  the  great  gate  with  their 
bullets,  and  came  sweeping  in. 

Lord  Roberts  gives  another  version  of  this  incident. 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    COLIN    CAMPBELL     225 

The  Sepoys,  lie  says,  were  driven  out  of  the  earth- 
work which  covered  the  gateway,  and  Avere  swept 
back  into  the  Secundrabagh,  and  the  heavy  doors  of 
the  great  gateway  were  being  hurriedly  shut  in  the 
face  of  the  stormers.  A  subahdar  of  the  4th  Punjab 
Infantry  reached  the  gate  in  time  enough  to  thrust 
his  left  arm,  on  which  was  carried  a  shield,  between 
the  closing  doors.  His  hand  was  slashed  across  by  a 
tulwar  from  within,  whereupon  he  drew  it  out,  in- 
stantly thrusting  in  the  other  arm,  when  his  right 
hand,  in  turn,  was  all  but  severed  from  the  Avrist ! 
But  he  kept  the  gates  from  being  shut,  and  in 
another  minute  the  men  of  the  93rd,  of  the  53rd, 
and  of  the  gallant  Punjabee's  own  regiment  went 
storming  in. 

The  men  of  the  53rd  again  tried,  with  success, 
another  device.  They  lifted  their  caps  on  the  tips 
of  their  bayonets  to  a  line  of  iron-barred  windows 
above  their  heads,  and  thus  drew  the  fire  of  their  de- 
fenders. Then  they  leaped  up,  tore  away  the  bars, 
and,  clambering  on  each  other's  shoulders,  broke 
through.  Forbes-Mitchell  was  the  fifth  or  sixth  man 
through  the  breach,  and  was  immediately  fired  upon 
point-blank  by  a  Sepoy  l}^ng  in  the  grass  half-a- 
dozen  yards  distant.  The  bullet  struck  the  thick 
brass  buckle  on  his  belt,  and  such  was  the  force  of 
the  blow  that  it  tumbled  him  head  over  heels. 
Colonel  Ewart   came  next  to  Forbes-Mitchell,  who 

heard  his  colonel  say,  as  he  rushed  past  him,  ''■  Poor 

p 


2  26   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

fellow  !  he  is  done  for."  Ewart,  a  gallant  Highlander, 
of  commanding  stature,  played  a  great  part  in  the 
struggle  within  the  Secundrabagh.  His  bonnet  was 
shot  or  struck  off  his  head,  and,  bareheaded,  amidst 
the  push  and  sway  and  madness  of  the  fight,  he  bore 
himself  like  a  knight  of  old. 

The  fight  within  the  walls  of  the  Secundrabagh 
raged  for  nearly  two  hours,  and  the  sounds  that 
floated  up  from  it  as  the  Sepoys,  "fighting  like 
devils  " — to  quote  an  actor  in  the  scene, — were  driven 
from  floor  to  floor  of  the  building,  or  across  the  green 
turf  of  the  garden,  were  appalling.  The  fighting 
passion  amongst  the  combatants  often  took  queer 
shapes.  Thus  one  man,  known  amongst  the  93rd  as 
"  the  Quaker,"  from  his  great  quietness,  charged  into 
the  Secundrabagh  like  a  kilted  and  male  Fury,  and, 
according  to  Forbes-Mitchell,  quoting  a  verse  of  the 
Scottish  psalm  with  every  thrust  of  his  bayonet  or 
shot  from  his  rifle : — 

"  I'll  of  salvation  take  the  cup, 
On  God's  name  will  I  call ; 
I'll  pay  my  vows  now  to  the  Lord 
Before  His  people  all." 

Scottish  psalm,  punctuated  with  bayonet  thrusts: 
this  surely  is  the  strangest  battle-hymn  ever  heard ! 

Ewart  found  that  two  native  officers  had  carried 
the  regimental  flag  into  a  narrow  and  dark  room,  and 
were  defendinsf  themselves  like  wild  cats.  Ewart 
leaped  single-handed  into  the   room,  and   captured 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   COLIN    CAMPBELL     2 27 

the  colours,  slaying  both  officers.  The  fight  within 
the  Secundrabagh  was  by  this  time  practically  over, 
and  Ewart  ran  outside,  and  bareheaded,  with  blood- 
stained uniform  and  smoke-blackened  face,  ran  up  to 
Sir  Colin  as  he  sat  on  his  grey  horse,  and  cried,  "  We 
are  in  possession,  sir !  I  have  killed  the  last  two  of 
the  enemy  with  my  own  hand,  and  here  is  one  of 

their  colours."     "  D your  colours,  sir  ! "  was  the 

wrathful  response  of  Sir  Colin.  "  It's  not  your  place 
to  be  taking  colours.  Go  back  to  your  regiment  this 
instant,  sir."  Sir  Colin  had  a  Celtic  shortness  of 
temper ;  the  strain  of  waiting  while  the  madness  of 
the  fight  raged  within  the  great  walls  had  told  on  his 
nerves.  He  was  eager  to  get  his  93rd  into  regi- 
mental shape  again ;  and,  as  Forbes-Mitchell  argues, 
believed,  from  his  appearance  and  bearing,  that  Ewart 
was  drunk  !  So  he  was  :  but  it  was  with  the  passion 
of  battle ! 

The  officers  of  Sir  Colin's  staff  read  Ewart's  con- 
dition more  truly,  and  as  this  ragged,  blood-stained 
figure,  carrying  the  captured  flag,  came  running  out 
from  the  furnace  of  the  great  fight,  they  cheered 
vehemently.  Later  in  the  day  Sir  Colin  himself 
apologised  to  Ewart  for  his  brusqueness. 

In  the  whole  record  of  war  there  are  not  many 
scenes  of  slaughter  to  be  compared  with  that  which 
took  place  within  the  walls  of  the  Secundrabagh. 
The  53rd  held  the  north  side  of  the  great  quadrangle^ 
the  Sikhs  and  the  93rd  the  east  side,  and  a  mixed 


228    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

force,  composed  of  several  regiments,  held  the  south ; 
on  the  west  there  was  no  escape.  The  great  mass  of 
Sepoys  in  the  centre  of  the  quadrangle  was  thus 
pelted  with  lead  and  fire  from  the  three  fronts.  "  We 
fired  volley  after  volley  into  the  dense  multitude," 
says  Jones-Parry,  "until  nothing  was  left  but  a 
moving  mass,  like  mites  in  a  cheese ! " 

Of  the  2000  or  2500  Sepoys  who  formed  the  garri- 
son of  the  Secundrabagh  not  one  man  escaped.  Its 
whole  area,  when  the  fight  was  over,  was  red  with 
blood  and  strewn  with  the  bodies  of  slain  men.  Four 
whole  regiments  of  mutineers  were  simply  blotted 
out.  Many  of  the  slain  Sepoys  wore  Punjab  medals 
on  their  breasts ;  many,  too,  were  found  to  have  leave 
certificates,  signed  by  former  commanding  officers, 
in  their  pockets,  showing  they  had  been  on  leave 
when  the  regiment  mutinied,  and  had  rejoined  their 
regiment  to  fight  against  the  British.  The  walls  of 
the  Secundrabagh  still  stand,  a  long,  low  mound 
along  one  side  showing  where  the  great  company  of 
slain  Sepoys  were  buried.  What  other  patch  of  the 
earth's  surface,  of  equal  size,  has  ever  witnessed  more 
of  human  valour  and  of  human  despair  than  those 
few  square  yards  of  turf  that  lie  within  the  shot-bat- 
tered walls  of  this  ancient  Indian  pleasure-garden ! 

The  British  losses,  curiously  enough,  were  compara- 
tively light,  except  amongst  the  officers.  The  93rd 
had  nine  officers  killed  and  wounded.  The  4th 
Punjab  infantry  went  into  the  fight  with  four  British 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   COLIN    CAMPBELL     229 

officers ;  two  were  killed,  one  was  desperately  wounded, 
and  the  regiment  was  brought  out  of  the  fight  by  the 
sole  surviving  officer,  Lieut.  Willoughby,  himself  only 
a  lad.  He  was  recommended  for  the  V.C.,  but  did 
not  live  to  wear  that  much-coveted  decoration,  as 
he  was  slain  in  fight  shortly  afterwards. 

But  the  strongest  post  held  by  the  rebels,  in  the 
track  along  which  the  British  were  moving  towards 
the  Residency,  was  the  Shah  Nujeef,  a  great  and 
massively-built  mosque,  girdled  with  a  high  loop- 
holed  wall,  and  screened  by  trees  and  enclosures  of 
various  kinds.  Campbell  brought  up  Peel,  with  his 
Naval  Brio-ade,  to  make  a  breach  in  the  massive 
walls  of  the  Shah  Nujeef,  and  that  gallant  sailor  ran 
his  guns  up  within  twenty  yards  of  the  loopholed 
walls  of  the  great  mosque,  and,  swinging  them  round, 
opened  fire,  while  the  gunners  were  shot  down  in 
quick  succession  as  they  toiled  to  load  and  discharge 
their  pieces.  "  It  was  an  action,"  said  Sir  Colin  in 
his  despatch  afterwards,  "  almost  unexampled  in 
war."  Peel,  in  a  word,  behaved  very  much  as  if 
he  were  laying  the  Shannon  alongside  an  enemy's 
frigate ! 

As  the  men  ran  up  their  guns  to  the  walls  of  the 
Shah  Nujeef,  Forbes-Mitchell  says  he  saw  a  sailor  lad, 
just  in  front  of  him,  who  had  his  leg  carried  clean  off 
by  a  round  shot,  which  struck  him  above  the  knee. 
"  He  sat  bolt  upright  on  the  grass,  with  the  blood 
spouting  from  the  stump  of  his  leg  like  water  from 


230   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

the  hose  of  a  fire-engine,  and  shouted,  '  Here  goes  a 
shilling  a  day,  a  shilling  a  day !  Remember  Cawn- 
pore,  93rd ;  remember  Cawnpore !  Go  at  them,  my 
hearties ; '  and  then  sank  down  and  died." 

But  the  defence  of  the  Shah  Nujeef  was  stubborn, 
and  for  three  hours  Peel  worked  his  guns  under  a 
double  cross-fire,  and  still  his  i8-pounders  failed  to 
pierce  the  solid  walls  of  the  great  mosque.  The  93  rd 
were  brought  up,  and,  lying  down  under  what  shelter 
they  could  secure,  tried  to  keep  down  the  musketry 
tire  from  the  walls,  and  many  of  them  were  shot  down 
by  bullets  or  arrows  from  the  summit  of  the  mosque. 
The  external  masonry  had  flaked  off,  leaving  a  rough, 
irregular  face,  up  which  an  active  cat  might  possibly 
have  scrambled;  and  at  this  a  battalion  of  detach- 
ments— in  which  clusters  from  a  dozen  regiments 
were  combined — under  the  command  of  Major  Bran- 
ston,  was  launched.  The  men  ran  forward  with 
utmost  daring,  but  the  wall  was  twenty  feet  high; 
there  were  no  scaling-ladders.  It  was  impossible  to 
climb  the  broken  face  of  the  masonry.  Branston 
fell,  shot,  and  his  second  in  command,  the  present 
Lord  Wolseley,  kept  up  the  attack,  making  desperate 
attempts  to  escalade. 

A  tree  stood  at  an  angle  of  the  Shah  Nujeef,  close 
to  the  wall,  and  giving  the  chance  of  firing  over  it. 
Peel  offered  the  Victoria  Cross  to  any  of  his  men  who 
would  climb  it.  Two  lieutenants  and  a  leading  sea- 
man named  Harrison  in  a  moment,  with  seamanlike 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   COLIN   CAMPBELL     23 1 

activity,  clambered  up  the  tree,  and  opened  a  deadly 
fire  on  the  enemy.  Each  man  of  the  three  was  in 
turn  shot,  but  not  till  they  had  accomplished  the  task 
they  had  undertaken. 

Nightfall  was  coming  on.  It  was  impossible  to 
turn  back ;  it  seemed  equally  impossible  to  carry  the 
Shah  Nujeef.  Peel's  guns,  firing  for  nearly  three 
hours  at  point-blank  range,  had  failed  to  tear  the 
stubborn  masonry  to  pieces.  The  answering  fire,  both 
of  cannon  and  musketry,  from  either  flank,  which 
covered  the  face  of  the  great  mosque  being  assailed, 
grew  heavier  every  moment.  Campbell  theu  called 
upon  the  93rd,  and  told  them  he  would  lead  them 
himself,  as  the  place  must  be  carried.  The  lives  of 
the  women  and  children  inside  the  Residency  were  at 
stake.  A  dozen  voices  from  the  ranks  called  out  that 
they  would  carry  the  place,  right  enough,  but  Sir 
Colin  must  not  expose  his  own  life.  '•'  We  can  lead 
ourselves,"  cried  one  after  another.  Whether  even 
the  93  rd  could  have  clambered  over  the  lofty  and 
unbroken  walls  of  the  Shah  Nujeef  may  be  doubted, 
but  at  this  moment  the  wit  and  darino'  of  a  Scotch 
soldier  saved  the  situation. 

There  are  conflicting  versions  of  the  incident,  but 
Forbes-Mitchell  shall  tell  the  story : — 

Just  at  that  moment  Sergeant  John  Paton,  of  my  com- 
pany, came  running  down  the  ravine  at  the  moment  the 
battalion  of  detachments  had  been  ordered  to  storm.  He 
had  discovered  a  breach  in  the  north-east  corner  of  the 


232    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

rampart,  next  to  the  river  Goomtee.  It  appears  that  our 
shot  and  shell  had  gone  over  the  first  breach,  and  had 
blown  out  the  wall  on  the  other  side  in  this  particular  spot. 
Paton  told  how  he  had  climbed  up  to  the  top  of  the  ram- 
parts without  difficulty,  and  seen  right  inside  the  place,  as 
the  whole  defending  force  had  been  called  forward  to  re- 
pulse the  assault  in  front.  Captain  Dawson  and  his  com- 
pany were  at  once  called  out,  and  while  the  others  opened 
fire  on  the  breach  in  front  of  them,  we  dashed  down  the 
ravine,  Sergeant  Paton  showing  the  way.  As  soon  as  the 
enemy  saw  that  the  breach  behind  had  been  discovered, 
and  their  well-defended  position  was  no  longer  tenable,  they 
fled  like  sheep  through  the  back  gate  next  to  the  Goomtee, 
and  another  in  the  direction  of  the  Mootee  Munzil.  If 
No.  7  company  had  got  in  behind  them  and  cut  off  their 
retreat  by  the  back  gate,  it  would  have  been  Secundrabagh 
over  again. 

Paton  received  the  Victoria  Cross  for  that  signal 
service.  He  Avas  a  soldier  of  the  finest  type,  took  part 
in  more  than  thirty  engagements,  and  passed  through 
them  all  without  so  much  as  a  scratch.  Paton  emi- 
grated in  1 86 1  to  Melbourne;  a  little  later  he  entered 
the  service  of  the  New  South  Wales  Government, 
and  became  Governor  of  Goulburn  Gaol,  retiring  on 
a  pension  in  February  1896. 

A  quiet  night  followed  a  day  so  fierce.  The  troops 
were  exhausted.  Their  rifles,  in  addition,  had  become 
so  foul  with  four  days'  heavy  work  that  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  load  them.  The  next  day,  however,  the 
advance  was  continued,  and  position  after  position 
was  carried,  the  last  being  what  was  known  as  the 


LUCKNOW    AND    SIR    COLTN    CAMPBELL     233 

Mess-house.  This  was  carried  by  a  wing  of  the  53rd, 
led  by  Captain  Hopkins — "one  of  the  bravest  men 
that  ever  lived,"  says  Malleson ;  "  a  man  who  literally 
revelled  in  danger."  From  the  summit  of  the  Mess- 
house  the  Union  Jack  was  hoisted  as  a  siofnal  to 
the  Residency,  but  on  the  flag  the  exasperated  Sepoys 
concentrated  their  fire,  and  twice  in  succession  it  was 
shot  down.  Forbes-Mitchell  says  that  a  previous  and 
successful  attempt  to  signal  to  the  Residency  had  been 
made  from  the  Shah  Nujeef.  The  adjutant  of  the 
93rd,  Lieutenant  M'Bean,  a  sergeant,  and  a  little 
drummer-boy,  twelve  years  old,  named  Ross,  and  tiny 
for  his  age,  climbed  to  the  summit  of  the  dome  of  the 
Shah  Nujeef,  put  a  Highland  bonnet  on  the  tip  of  the 
staff,  waved  the  regimental  colour  of  the  93  rd,  while 
the  boy  sounded  the  regimental  call  shrilly  on  his 
bugle. 

The  signal  was  seen  and  answered  from  the  Resi- 
dency, its  flag  being  raised  and  lowered  three  times ; 
but  every  Sepoy  battery  within  range  instantly  opened 
on  the  three  figures  on  the  summit  of  the  dome.  They 
quickly  descended,  but  little  Ross  turned,  ran  up 
the  ladder  again  like  a  monkey,  and,  holding  on  to 
the  spire  of  the  dome  with  his  left  hand,  blew  the  call 
known  as  "The  Cock  of  the  North"  as  a  blast  of 
defiance  to  the  enemy ! 

Outram  meanwhile  was  pushing  cautiously  on  in 
the  direction  of  Campbell's  attack,  occupying  build- 
ing after  building ;  and  late  in  the  afternoon  Outram 


2  34    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

and  Havelock  and  Campbell  had  clasped  hands  on 
the  sloping  ground  in  front  of  the  Mess-house.  A 
hole  had  to  be  broken  through  the  western  wall 
of  the  Pearl  Palace  enclosure  to  let  the  chiefs  of 
the  beleaguered  garrison  through,  and  a  slab  in  the 
wall  still  marks  the  spot.  Campbell,  Havelock,  and 
Outram  met  on  the  slope  outside  the  Mess-house, 
and  the  meeting  of  three  such  soldiers  under  such 
conditions  was  a  memorable  event.  No  red-coated 
Boswell,  unhappily,  has  told  us  how  the  veterans 
greeted  each  other.  The  Kaisarbagh,  strongly  held 
by  the  mutineers,  overlooked  the  little  patch  of 
rough  soil  on  which  the  three  famous  soldiers  stood, 
and  every  gun  that  could  be  trained  upon  the  group 
broke  into  fire.  It  was  to  an  accompaniment  of 
bellowing  cannon,  of  bursting  shells,  and  of  whistling 
bullets  that  Campbell,  Havelock,  and  Outram  ex- 
changed their  first  greeting. 

Young  Roberts,  with  Captain  Norman,  accom- 
panied Outram  and  Havelock  back  to  the  Resi- 
dency, and  he  has  described  how  he  passed  from 
post  to  post,  held  with  such  long  -  enduring  and 
stubborn  courage  by  the  relieved  garrison.  "  When 
we  came,"  he  says,  "  to  the  Bailey  Guard,  and  looked 
at  the  battered  walls  and  gateway,  not  an  inch 
without  a  mark  of  a  round  shot  or  bullet,  we 
marvelled  that  Aitken  and  Loughnan  could  have 
managed  to  defend  it  for  nearly  five  months."  It 
was  found  difficult  to  get  the  relieved  garrison  to 


LUCKNOW   AND   SIR   COLIN   CAMPBELL     235 

talk  of  their  own  experiences ;  they  were  too  hungry 
for  news  from  the  outside  world  !  Jones- Parry  says, 
"  The  first  man  of  the  garrison  I  met  was  my  old 
schoolfellow  and  chum,  Meecham.  He  was  an  ex- 
cellent specimen  of  the  condition  of  the  defenders, 
for  he  looked  more  like  a  greyhound  than  a  man. 
He  was  thin  as  a  lath,  and  his  eyes  looked  sunken 
into  his  head." 

Lucknow  was  relieved ;  but  to  reach  the  Resi- 
dency had  cost  Sir  Colin  Campbell  a  loss  of  45 
officers  and  496  men.  Campbell  found  his  posi- 
tion difficult.  He  had  broken  through  the  besieging 
force ;  he  had  not  ended  the  siege.  To  hold  the 
Residency  meant  to  be  besieged  himself.  He  de- 
cided to  bring  off  the  Residency  garrison,  with  the 
women  and  children,  abandoning  the  shot-wrecked 
walls  and  foul  trenches  to  the  enemy.  To  evacuate 
the  Residency,  carrying  off  in  safety,  through  the 
lines  of  a  hostile  force  five  times  as  numerous  as 
his  own,  600  women  and  children,  and  more  than 
1000  sick  or  wounded  men,  was  a  great  feat,  but 
Sir  Colin  Campbell  accomplished  it,  and  did  it  so 
adroitly  that  not  a  casualty  was  incurred,  and  not 
a  serviceable  gun  abandoned.  So  completely,  in 
fact,  did  Sir  Colin  Campbell  deceive  the  enemy 
that  their  guns  were  pouring  their  fire  angrily  on 
the  Residency  for  at  least  four  hours  after  the  last 
British  soldier  had  left  it ! 

Havelock  died  just  as  he  was  being  carried  out 


236   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

of  the  slender  and  battered  defences  he  had  reached 
and  held  so  gallantly.  He  died  of  an  attack  of 
dysentery,  brought  on,  says  Major  Anson,  *'by  run- 
ning nearly  three-quarters  of  a  mile  under  fire  from 
the  Residency  to  meet  the  Commander-in-Chief  and 
greet  him  as  his  deliverer." 

He  lies  buried  in  the  Alumbagh,  the  place  Have- 
lock  himself  won  by  an  assault  so  daring  when 
advancing:  to  relieve  Lucknow.  He  was  buried  on 
the  morning  of  November  25,  and  round  his  rude 
coffin,  on  which  the  battle-flag  lay,  stood  his  sor- 
rowing comrades,  a  group  of  the  most  gallant  soldiers 
that  earthly  battlefields  have  ever  known — Camp- 
bell, and  Outram,  and  Peel,  and  Adrian  Hope,  and 
Fraser  Tytler,  and  the  younger  Havelock,  with  men 
of  the  Ross-shire  Buffs  and  of  the  Madras  Fusileers, 
whom  Havelock  had  so  often  led  to  victory.  On 
a  tree  that  grew  beside  the  grave  the  letter  H 
was  roughly  carved,  to  mark  where  Havelock's  body 
lay.  To-day  the  interior  of  the  Alumbagh  is  a 
garden,  and  a  shapely  obelisk  marks  the  spot  where 
sleeps  the  dust  of  one  of  the  bravest  soldiers  that 
ever  fought  for  the  honour  and  flag  of  England. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    SEPOY    IN    THE    OPEN 

THE  losses  of  the  beleaguered  English  during  the 
siege  of  the  Residency  were,  of  course,  great. 
When  the  siege  began  the  garrison  consisted  of  927 
Europeans — not  three  out  of  four  being  soldiers — 
and  765  natives.  Up  to  the  date  of  the  relief  by 
Havelock — Zy  days — 350  Europeans,  more  than  one 
out  of  every  three  of  the  whole  European  force,  were 
killed  or  died  of  disease  ! 

It  is  curious  to  note  how  all  the  swiftly-changing 
events  and  passions  of  the  Mutiny  are  reflected  in 
such  of  the  diaries  and  journals  of  the  period  as  have 
been  published ;  and  frequently  a  view  of  the  actors 
in  the  great  drama  and  of  their  actions  is  obtained 
from  this  source,  such  as  grave  historians,  much  to 
the  loss  of  their  readers,  never  give  us.  One  of  the 
best  diaries  of  the  kind  is  that  of  Lady  Canning,  as 
published  in  "  The  Story  of  Two  Noble  Lives,"  by 
Augustus  J.  C.  Hare.  This  journal  gives  us  dainty 
little  vignettes  of  the  principal  figures  in  the  Mutiny, 
with  pictures  of  all  the  alternating  moods  of  fear  and 
hope,  of  triumph  and  despair,  as,  moment  by  mo- 
ment, they  were  experienced  by  the  little  circle  of 

237 


238    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Government  House  in  Calcutta.  Here,  for  example, 
is  a  quaint  picture  of  Havelock,  whicli  Lady  Canning 
draws  when  the  news  reached  Calcutta  of  his 
death : — 

JSlov.  27. — We  had  a  grievous  piece  of  news  from 
Alumbagh.  Havelock  died  two  days  ago.  He  died  of 
dysentery,  worn  out  in  mind  and  body.  ...  It  is  curious 
now  to  remember  how  his  appointment  was  abused  here, 
when  he  was  called  "  an  old  fossil  dug  up  and  only  fit 
to  be  turned  into  pipe-clay."  I  knew  him  better  than 
almost  any  one,  and  used  to  try  and  keep  him  in  good- 
humour  when  he  seemed  a  little  inclined  to  be  affronted. 
He  was  very  small,  and  upright,  and  stiff,  very  white  and 
grey,  and  really  like  an  iron  ramrod.  He  always  dined  in 
his  sword,  and  made  his  son  do  the  same.  He  wore  more 
medals  than  ever  I  saw  on  any  one,  and  it  was  a  joke  that 
he  looked  as  if  he  carried  all  his  money  round  his  neck. 
He  certainly  must  have  had  eleven  or  twelve  of  those 
great  round  half-crown  pieces. 

Lady  Canning  goes  on  to  picture  Campbell's 
march  back  to  Cawnpore,  with  his  great  convoy  of 
wounded  men  and  women  and  children,  and  her 
woman's  imagination  fastens  naturally  on  this  long 
procession  of  helpless  human  beings.  "Sir  Colin," 
she  writes,  "  has  sent  off  four  miles  long  of  women 
and  wounded  ! "  Later  on  she  reports  the  procession 
as  fourteen  miles  long !  And  no  doubt  the  business 
of  transporting  such  a  host  of  helpless  creatures  out 
of  a  city  which  contained  60,000  hostile  troops,  and 
across   nearly   fifty   miles    of   an   enemy's   country, 


THE   SEPOY  IN    THE    OPEN  239 

was  a  feat  calculated  to  impress  the  human  ima- 
gination. 

Campbell  had  one  tremendous  source  of  anxiety. 
He  had  to  carry  his  huge  convoy  of  non-combatants, 
guns,  treasure,  and  material  across  the  slender,  sway- 
ing line  of  boats  which  bridged  the  Ganges  at  Cawn- 
pore  before  safety  was  reached.  That  bridge,  indeed, 
formed  his  only  possible  line  of  retreat.  If  it  were 
destroyed  or  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands,  the  tragedy 
of  Cabul — where  only  one  man  escaped  out  of  an 
army — might  have  been  repeated. 

Campbell  had  left  Windham  to  guard  the  bridge 
and  hold  Cawnpore,  but  Windham  had  only  500  men 
— a  force  scarcely  stronger  in  fighting  power  than 
that  with  which  Wheeler  held  the  fatal  entrench- 
ments— and  within  easy  striking  distance  was  the 
Gwalior  contingent,  numbering,  with  a  fringe  of 
irregulars,  some  25,000  men,  with  forty  guns,  the 
most  formidable  and  best-drilled  force,  on  the  Sepoy 
side,  in  the  whole  Mutiny.  At  its  head,  too,  Avas 
Tantia  Topee,  the  one  real  soldier  on  the  enemy's 
side  the  Mutiny  produced,  Avith  quite  enough  war- 
like skill  to  see  the  opportunity  offered  him  of 
striking  a  fatal  blow  at  Campbell's  communications. 
If  Windham's  scanty  force  had  been  crushed,  and 
the  bridge  destroyed,  Campbell's  position  would  have 
been,  in  a  military  sense,  desperate,  and  the  tragedy 
of  Cawnpore  might  have  been  repeated  in  darker 
colours  and  on  a  vaster  scale.     Sound  generalship 


240   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

required  Campbell  to  smash  the  formidable  force 
which  threatened  Cawnpore  before  advancing  on 
Lucknow;  but  Campbell  took  all  risks  in  order  to 
succour  the  beleaguered  Residency. 

Having  plucked  the  beleaguered  garrison  out  of 
the  very  heart  of  the  enemy's  forces,  it  may  be  ima- 
gined with  what  eagerness  Campbell  now  set  his  face 
towards  Cawnpore  again.  There  was  no  safety  for 
his  helpless  convoy  till  the  bridge  was  crossed.  For 
days,  too,  all  communications  with  Windham  had 
been  intercepted.  An  ominous  veil  of  unpierced 
silence  hung  between  the  retreating  English  and 
their  base.  Campbell  set  out  from  the  Alumbagh  on 
the  morning  of  November  27.  All  day  the  great 
column  crept  along  over  the  desolate  plain  towards 
the  Ganges.  At  nightfall  they  had  reached  Bunnee 
Bridge,  and  that  "  veil  of  silence  "  was  for  a  moment 
lifted.  Or,  rather,  through  it  there  stole  a  faint  deep 
sound,  full  of  menace,  the  voice  of  cannon  answering 
cannon  !  Windham  was  attacked  !  He  was  perhaps 
fighting  for  his  life  at  the  bridge-head  ! 

All  through  the  night  those  far-off  and  sullen  vibra- 
tions told  how  the  fight  was  being  maintained,  and 
with  what  eagerness  the  march  was  resumed  next 
morning  may  be  guessed.  Forbes-Mitchell  relates 
how  Campbell  addressed  the  93rd,  and  told  them 
they  must  reach  Cawnpore  that  night  at  all  costs. 
The  veteran  was  fond  of  taking  his  Highlanders  into 
his  confidence ;  and  he  went  on  to  explain : — 


THE    SEPOY    IN    THE    OPEN  24 1 

"  If  the  bridge  of  boats  should  be  captured  before  we 
got  there  we  would  be  cut  off  in  Oude  with  50,000  of  our 
enemies  in  our  rear,  a  well-equipped  army  of  40,000  men, 
with  a  powerful  train  of  artillery,  numbering  over  40  siege 
guns,  in  our  front,  and  with  all  the  women  and  children, 
sick  and  wounded  to  guard.  So,  93rd,"  said  the  grand  old 
chief,  "  I  don't  ask  you  to  undertake  this  forced  march  in 
your  present  tired  condition  without  good  reason.  You 
must  reach  Cawnpore  to-night  at  all  costs."  "  All  right, 
Sir  Colin,"  shouted  one  voice  after  another  from  the  ranks ; 
"  we'll  do  it ! " 

The  men,  it  must  be  remembered,  had  not  had  their 
clothes  off  or  changed  their  socks  for  eighteen  days, 
and  what  a  tax  on  the  fortitude  of  the  men  that  forced 
march  was,  can  hardly  be  realised.  Alison  tells  the 
story  very  graphically : — 

Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost.  The  danger  was  instant, 
and  the  whole  army  eagerly  pressed  on  towards  the  scene 
of  danger.  At  every  step  the  sound  of  a  heavy  but  distant 
cannonade  became  more  distinct ;  but  mile  after  mile  was 
passed  over,  and  no  news  could  be  obtained.  The  anxiety 
and  impatience  of  all  became  extreme.  Louder  and  louder 
grew  the  roar — faster  and  faster  became  the  march — long 
and  weary  was  the  way — tired  and  footsore  grew  the  in- 
fantry— death  fell  on  the  exhausted  wounded  with  terrible 
rapidity— the  travel-worn  bearers  could  hardly  stagger 
along  under  their  loads — the  sick  men  groaned  and  died. 
But  still  on,  on,  on,  was  the  cry.  Salvoes  of  artillery  were 
fired  by  the  field  battery  of  the  advanced  guard  in  hopes 
that  its  sound  might  convey  to  the  beleaguered  garrison  a 
promise  of  the  coming  aid.     At  last  some  horsemen  were 


242    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

seen  spurring  along  the  road  ;  then  the  veil  which  had  for 
so  long  shrouded  us  from  Windham  was  rent  asunder,  and 
the  disaster  stood  before  us  in  all  its  deformity. 

The  story  of  Windham's  disastrous  fight  at  Cawn- 
pore  is  a  sort  of  bloody  appendix  to  Campbell's  march 
on  Lucknow.  It  must  be  told  here  to  make  the  tale 
complete. 

Windham  was  a  soldier  of  a  fine,  if  not  of  the 
highest  type,  a  man  of  immense  energy  and  of  cool 
daring  which,  if  it  always  saw  the  peril,  scorned  to 
turn  aside  on  account  of  it.  His  sobriquet  was 
"Redan"  Windham,  and  no  one  who  has  read  the 
story  of  how,  on  September  8,  1855,  he  led  the  British 
stormers  through  the  embrasures  of  the  Redan  can 
doubt  that  Windham's  courage  was  of  a  lion-like 
quality.  He  was  the  first  of  the  stormers  of  the 
Second  Division  to  cross  the  great  ditch  in  front  of 
the  Redan,  and  the  first  to  clamber  through  an  em- 
brasure. When  his  men — young  soldiers  belonging 
to  half-a-dozen  separate  regiments — hung  back  under 
the  great  ramparts  of  the  Redan,  Windham  thrice  ran 
forward  alone  with  his  brandished  sword  into  the 
centre  of  the  work,  calling  on  the  men  to  follow. 
He  has  told  the  story  of  how,  again  and  again, 
he  went  back  to  his  men,  patted  them  on  the  back, 
and  begged  them  to  follow  him. 

Five  times  he  sent  to  the  rear  for  reinforcements, 
and  it  shows  the  coolness  of  the  man  in  the  hell  of 
that  great  fight  that,  determined  at  last  to  go  himself 


THE   SEPOY   IN    THE    OPEN  243 

in  search  of  additional  troops,  he  first  turned  to  an 
officer  standing  near  and  asked  his  name.  Then  he 
said  to  him,  "  I  have  sent  five  times  for  support,  now 
bear  witness  that  I  am  not  in  a  funk  " — at  which  the 
officer  smiled — ''but  I  will  now  go  back  myself  and 
see  what  I  can  do." 

He  went  back,  but  before  he  could  bring  up  new 
troops,  the  men  still  clinging  to  the  Redan  gave 
way,  and  the  attack  failed.  Windham's  judgment  was 
challenged,  but  he  was  as  brave  as  his  own  sword.  He 
no  doubt  had  his  limitations  as  an  officer.  Russell, 
a  perfectly  good  critic,  says  that  he  "  seemed  always 
to  have  something  to  do  in  addition  to  something  that 
he  had  done  already."  There  was  a  certain  note  of 
hurry  in  his  character,  that  is,  which  does  not  add  to 
the  efficiency  of  a  leader.  His  failing  as  an  officer, 
Russell  adds,  was  "reckless  gallantry  and  dash" — 
grave  faults,  no  doubt,  in  a  general,  but  faults  which 
are  not  without  their  compensations  in  a  mere  leader 
of  fighting  men.  This  was  the  man  whom  Campbell 
chose  to  keep  the  bridge  at  Cawnpore  while  he  made 
his  dash  for  the  relief  of  Lucknow. 

Windham's  force  consisted  of  500  men,  made  up  of 
convalescent  artillerymen,  some  sailors,  and  four  com- 
panies of  the  64th.  Some  earthworks  had  been 
thrown  up  to  guard  the  bridge-head,  but,  in  a  military 
sense,  the  position  was  scarcely  defensible.  Wind- 
ham's orders  were  to  forward  with  the  utmost  speed 
to  Campbell  all  reinforcements  as  they  came  up ;  to 


244    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

keep  a  vigilant  watch  on  the  GwaUor  contingent,  and 
hold  the  bridge  to  his  last  man  and  the  last  cartridge. 

Windham  sent  on  the  reinforcements  for  a  time, 
loyally,  but  as  the  Gwalior  contingent — which  had 
now  been  joined  by  Nana  Sahib  and  all  his  forces — 
began  to  press  more  menacingly  upon  him,  he 
strengthened  himself  by  holding  the  troops  as  they 
came  up ;  until,  at  the  moment  when  the  fight  com- 
menced, he  had  a  force  of  some  1700  men.  On  No- 
vember 19,  the  Gwalior  contingent  and  their  allies 
were  distributed  in  a  semicircle  round  Cawnpore — 
the  nearest  body  being  fifteen  miles  distant,  the  main 
body  some  twenty-five  miles  off. 

Windham,  always  disposed  to  attack  rather  than 
wait  to  be  attacked,  first  formed  a  plan  for  leaping 
on  these  hostile  forces  in  detail.  He  could  move 
from  the  interior  of  the  circle ;  they  were  scattered 
round  a  segment  of  its  circumference.  Windham 
left  300  men  to  hold  the  bridge-head,  and,  with  the 
main  body  of  his  force,  took  a  position  outside  the 
town,  in  readiness  for  his  dash.  Two  divisions  of  the 
enemy  were  about  fifteen  miles  to  the  north,  on 
cither  side  of  a  canal  running  parallel  to  the  Ganges. 
Windham  proposed  to  place  1200  men  in  boats  on 
the  canal  at  nightfall,  quietly  steal  up  through  the 
darkness,  and  in  the  morning  leap  on  the  enemy  on 
either  bank  in  turn  and  destroy  them,  then  fall 
swiftly  back  on  his  base. 

It  was  a  pretty  plan,  but  Tantia  Topee  had  his 


THE   SEPOY   IN   THE   OPEN  245 

military  ideas  too.  He  thrust  forward  the  GwaUor 
continofent  alongj  the  road  from  the  west,  and  on 
November  25  their  leading  division  crossed  the 
Pando  River  only  three  miles  from  Windham's  camp 
outside  Cawnpore.  Windham  promptly  swung  round 
to  his  left;  marched  fiercely  out — 1200  men  with 
eight  guns  against  20,000  with  twenty-five  guns — and 
fell  impetuously  on  the  head  of  the  enemy's  nearest 
column.  He  crumpled  it  up  with  the  energy  of  his 
stroke,  and  drove  it,  a  confused  mass,  in  retreat, 
leaving  three  guns  in  Windham's  hands. 

But  from  a  ridge  of  high  ground  Windham  was 
able  to  see  the  real  strength  of  the  enemy.  He  had 
crushed  its  leading  division  of  3000  men,  but  behind 
them  was  the  main  body  of  17,000  men  with  twenty 
guns  moving  steadily  forward.  Windham's  killed  and 
wounded  already  amounted  to  nearly  100  men,  and 
he  had  no  choice  but  to  fall  back.  His  scanty  little 
battery  of  six  light  guns,  with  undrilled  gunners, 
could  not  endure  the  fire  of  the  heavy  artillery 
opposed  to  them. 

Windham,  with  characteristic  tenacity,  would  not 
abandon  the  city  and  fall  back  on  his  entrenchments. 
He  took  a  position  on  open  ground  outside  the  town, 
across  what  w^as  called  the  Calpee  road — the  road, 
that  is,  running:  to  the  north — and  waited  the 
development  of  the  enemy's  plans.  In  the  town 
were  enormous  stores — the  supplies  for  Campbell's 
force,  with  Windham's  own  baggage.     He  ought,  no 


246   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

doubt,  to  have  sent  all  these  back  to  the  entrench- 
ments, and  he  admitted  afterwards  that  he  had  blun- 
dered in  not  doing  so;  and  the  blunder  cost  the 
British  force  dearly. 

The  morning  of  the  27th  dawned,  and  Windham 
stood  to  arms.  He  could  get  no  information  as  to 
the  enemy's  movements.  He  had  no  cavalry,  and 
his  spies  crept  back  to  him  horribly  mutilated.  He 
could  only  wait  for  Tantia  Topee's  stroke.  That 
general  proved  throughout  the  day  that  he  had  a 
good  soldierly  head,  and  could  frame  a  clever  and 
daring  plan  of  battle. 

Windham  expected  to  be  assailed  on  his  left  flank. 
But  at  ten  o'clock  the  roar  of  cannon  broke  out  on  his 
right  and  on  his  front.  A  strong  rebel  force  moving 
on  the  Calpee  road  from  the  north  struck  heavily  on 
Windham's  front,  while  a  yet  stronger  force  coming 
in  from  the  east  threw  itself  on  his  right  flank.  It 
was  in  the  main  an  artillery  attack,  and  the  rebel  fire 
was  of  overwhelming  fury.  At  the  front,  the  88th 
(the  Connaught  Kangers)  and  the  Rifles,  with  a 
battery  of  four  guns,  held  their  own  valiantly.  Some 
companies  of  the  82nd  and  the  34th  held  the  right 
flank,  and  here,  too,  the  fight  was  gallantly  sustained. 
Two  battles,  in  brief,  were  in  progress  at  the  same 
moment,  and  at  each  of  the  assailed  points  the 
British  numbered  scarcely  600  bayonets,  with  two  or 
three  guns,  while  at  each  point  the  artillery  fire  of 
the  enemy  was  of  terrific  severity. 


THE   SEPOY   IN    THE    OPEN  247 

For  nearly  five  hours  the  tumult  and  passion  of 
the  battle  raged.  At  the  front  the  British  ammuni- 
tion began,  at  last,  to  fail,  the  native  drivers  deserted, 
and  Windham  found  it  necessary  to  withdraw  two 
companies  from  his  right  flank  to  strengthen  his 
front.  At  that  moment  he  discovered  that  Tantia 
Topee — who  up  to  this  stage  had  maintained  the 
tight  chiefly  with  his  artillery,  and  had  with  great 
skill  gathered  a  heavy  mass  of  infantry  on  the  left 
flank  of  the  British — was  developing  a  third  attack 
at  that  point.  He  thrust  his  infantry,  that  is,  past 
Windham's  left,  and  tried  to  seize  the  town,  so  as  to 
cut  off  the  fighting  front  of  the  British  from  the 
bridge. 

Two  companies  of  the  64th  were  brought  up  from 
the  scanty  garrison  at  the  bridge-head  to  check  this 
dangerous  movement ;  and  then  Windham  found 
that  the  enemy  had  broken  in  on  his  right  flank,  and 
were  in  possession  of  the  lower  portions  of  the  toAvn  ! 

Windham  was  out-generalled,  and  had  no  choice 
but  to  fall  back  on  his  entrenchments,  and  he  had 
to  do  this  through  narrow  streets  and  broken  ground 
while  attacked  in  front  and  on  both  flanks  by  a 
victorious  enemy  ten  times  stronger  than  himself 
in  bayonets,  and  more  than  ten  times  stronger  in 
artillery.  Adye  says  that  the  retreat  to  the  en- 
trenchments "was  made  in  perfect  order,  and  not 
a  man  was  lost  in  the  operation " ;  but  on  this 
subject   there   is   the   wildest   conflict   of  evidence. 


248   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Moore,  the  chaplain  of  Windham's  force,  says  "  the 
men  got  quite  out  of  hand,  and  fled  pell-mell  for 
the  fort.  An  old  Sikh  officer  at  the  gate  tried  to 
stop  them  and  to  form  them  up  in  some  order, 
and  when  they  pushed  him  aside  and  brushed  past 
him  he  lifted  up  his  hands  and  said,  '  You  are  not 
the  brothers  of  the  men  who  beat  the  Khalsa  army 
and  conquered  the  Punjab!'"  Mr.  Moore  goes  on 
to  say  that  "  the  old  Sikh  followed  the  flying  men 
through  the  fort  gate,  and,  patting  some  of  them 
on  the  back,  said,  '  Don't  run,  don't  be  afraid ;  there 
is  nothing  to  hurt  you.' "  If  there  was  disorder  the 
excuse  is  that  the  men  were,  for  the  most  part, 
young  soldiers  without  regimental  cohesion— they 
were  mere  fragments  of  half-a-dozen  regiments — 
they  had  been  for  five  hours  under  an  overwhelm- 
ing artillery  fire,  and  were  exhausted  with  want 
of  food :  and  a  retreat  under  such  conditions,  and 
through  a  hostile  city,  might  well  have  taxed  the 
steadiness  of  the  best  troops  in  the  world.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  men  of  the  64th,  the  34th, 
and  the  82nd  held  together  with  the  steadiness  of 
veterans,  and  their  slow  and  stubborn  retreat,  their 
fierce  volleys  and  occasional  dashes  with  the  bayonets, 
quite  cooled  the  ardour  of  the  mutineers  as  they 
followed  the  retreating  British. 

At  one  point,  indeed,  on  the  right  flank  of  the 
British  there  was  a  clear  case  of  misconduct,  and 
the   culprit  was  an  officer.      His   name   in    all    the 


THE    SEPOY    IN    THE    OPEN  249 

published  reports  is  concealed  under  the  charity  of 
asterisks.  Campbell,  in  his  despatch,  says : — "  Lieut.- 
Colonel  *  *  *  misconducted  himself  on  the  26th 
and  27th  November  in  a  manner  which  has  rarely 
been  seen  amongst  the  officers  of  Her  Majesty's 
service ;  his  conduct  was  pusillanimous  and  imbecile 
to  the  last  degree,  and  he  actually  gave  orders  for 
the  retreat  of  his  own  regiment,  and  a  portion  of 
another,  in  the  very  face  of  the  orders  of  his  General, 
and  when  the  troops  were  not  seriously  pressed  by 
the  enemy." 

Every  man  who  wears  a  red  coat  and  a  pair  of 
epaulettes  is  not  necessarily  a  hero,  and  human 
courage,  at  best,  is  a  somewhat  unstable  element. 
This  particular  officer  had  risen  to  high  rank  and 
seen  much  service,  but  some  failure  of  nerve,  some 
sudden  clouding  of  brain,  in  the  stress  of  that 
desperate  fight,  made  him  play  —  if  only  for  a 
moment — the  part  both  of  an  imbecile  and  a 
coward,  and  surrender  a  position  which  was  essen- 
tial to  the  British  defence.  He  was  court-martialled 
after  the  fight  and  dismissed  the  service. 

Windham's  retreat  involved  the  sacrifice  of  all  the 
military  stores  in  the  town,  a  great  supply  of  ammu- 
nition, the  mess  plate,  and  the  paymaster's  chests 
and  baggage  of  four  Queen's  regiments,  &c.  Some 
500  tents,  as  one  item  alone,  were  turned  into  a 
huge  bonfire  that  night  by  the  exultant  rebels.  But, 
though  Windham  had  fallen  back  to  the  entrench- 


2  50   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

ments  at  the  bridge-head,  he  was  as  ready  for  fight 
as  ever.  He  held  a  council  of  his  officers  that  night 
and  proposed  to  sally  out  under  cover  of  darkness 
and  fall  on  the  enemy,  a  proposal  which  at  least 
proves  the  unquenchable  quality  of  his  courage. 

This  plan  was  not  adopted,  but,  it  being  discovered 
that  a  gun  had  been  overturned  and  abandoned  in 
the  streets  of  the  city,  Windham  sent  out  lOO  men 
of  the  64th,  with  a  few  sailors,  to  bring  that  gun 
in.  It  was  a  feat  of  singular  daring,  carried  out 
with  singular  success,  and  this  is  how  the  story  of 
it  is  told  by  an  officer  who  took  part  in  the 
adventure : — 

We  marched  off  under  the  guidance  of  a  native,  who 
said  he  would  take  us  to  the  spot  where  the  gun  lay.  We 
told  him  he  should  be  well  rewarded  if  he  brought  us  to 
the  gun,  but  if  he  brought  us  into  a  trap  we  had  a  soldier 
by  him  "  at  full  cock  "  ready  to  blow  his  brains  out.  We 
passed  our  outside  pickets,  and  entered  the  town  through 
very  narrow  streets  without  a  single  Sepoy  being  seen,  or 
a  shot  fired  on  either  side.  We  crept  along.  Not  a  soul 
spoke  a  word.  All  was  still  as  death  ;  and  after  marching 
this  way  into  the  very  heart  of  the  town  our  guide  brought 
us  to  the  very  spot  where  the  gun  was  capsized.  The 
soldiers  were  posted  on  each  side,  and  then  we  went  to 
work.  Not  a  man  spoke  above  his  breath,  and  each  stone 
was  laid  down  quietly.  When  we  thought  we  had  cleared 
enough  I  ordered  the  men  to  put  their  shoulders  to  the 
wheel  and  gun,  and  when  all  was  ready  and  every  man  had 
his  pound  before  him  I  said  "  Heave  !  "  and  up  she  righted. 
We  then  limbered  up,  called  the  soldiers  to  follow,  and  wq 


THE   SEPOY    IN    THE    OPEN  25  I 

inarched  into  the  entrenchment  with  our  gun  without  a 
shot  being  fired. 

On  the  morning  of  the  28th,  Windham,  still  bent 
on  "aggressive  defence,"  sallied  out  to  fight  the 
enemy  in  the  open — or  rather  on  either  flank.  On 
the  left  front  the  Rifles  and  the  82nd,  under  Wal- 
pole,  thrashed  the  enemy  in  a  most  satisfactory 
manner,  capturing  two  18 -pounders.  On  the  right, 
the  64th  and  the  34th,  under  Carthew,  fought  for 
hours  with  desperate  courage.  General  Wilson,  in 
particular,  led  two  companies  of  the  64th  in  a  very 
audacious  attempt  to  capture  a  battery  of  the  enemy. 
Wilson  himself  was  killed,  and  two  officers  of  the 
64th — Stirling  and  M'Crae — were  each  cut  down 
in  the  act  of  spiking  one  of  the  enemy's  guns,  and 
the  attempt,  though  gallant  as  anything  recorded 
in  the  history  of  war,  failed. 

When  evening  came  the  British  had  fallen  back  to 
their  entrenchments,  upon  which  a  heavy  Are,  both  of 
artillery  and  small  arms,  was  poured.  The  enemy  was 
in  complete  possession  of  the  town,  and,  planting  some 
guns  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  tried  to  destroy  the 
bridge.  "  The  dust  of  no  succouring  columns,"  says 
Alison,  "  could  be  seen  rising  from  the  plains  of  Oude, 
and  the  sullen  plunge  of  round  shot  into  the  river  by 
the  bridge  showed  by  how  frail  a  link  they  were  bound 
to  the  opposite  bank,  whence  only  aid  could  arrive." 
<  Suddenly  at  this  dramatic  moment  Campbell  him- 
self— who  had  pushed  ahead  of  his  column — made 


2  52    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY  ; 

his  appearance  with  his  staff  on  the  scene.  Says 
Alison : — 

The  clatter  of  a  few  horsemen  was  suddenly  heard 
passing  over  the  bridge  and  ascending  at  a  rapid  pace  the  ; 

road  which  leads  to  the  fort.  As  they  came  close  under 
the  ramparts,  an  old  man  with  grey  hair  was  seen  to  be 
riding  at  their  head.  One  of  the  soldiers  recognised  the 
commander-in-chief ;  the  news  spread  like  wildfire  :  the  j 

men,  crowding  upon  the  parapet,  sent  forth  cheer  after 
cheer.  The  enemy,  surprised  at  the  commotion,  for  a  few 
moments  ceased  their  fire.  The  old  man  rode  in  through 
the  gate.  All  felt  then  that  the  crisis  was  over — that  the  J 
Residency  saved,  wovdd  not  now  be  balanced  by  Cawnpore 
lost. 

A  characteristic  incident  marked  Campbell's  arrival. 
A  guard  of  the  82nd  held  a  hastily  constructed  tete  de 
pont  which  covered  the  bridge,  and  its  officer,  in 
answer  to  Campbell's  inquiry  as  to  how  matters  stood, 
replied  with  undiplomatic  bluntness  that  "  the  garri- 
son was  at  its  last  gasp."  At  this  announcement  the 
too  irascible  Sir  Colin  simply  exploded.  "  He  flew  at 
the  wretched  man,"  says  Lord  Roberts,  "as  he  was 
sometimes  apt  to  do  when  greatly  put  out,  rating  him 
soundly,  and  asking  hhn  '  how  he  dared  to  say  of  Her 
Majesty's  troops  that  they  were  at  the  last  gasp!'" 
This,  in  Campbell's  ears,  was  mere  egregious  and  in- 
credible treason ! 

With  the  arrival  of  Campbell  and  his  convoy,  and 
the  splendid  little  fighting  force  he  commanded,  the 
story  of  what  happened  at  Cawnpore  becomes  very 


THE  SEPOY  IN  THE  OPEN"        25 


-> 


pleasant  reading.  On  the  morning  of  the  30th,  the 
further  bank  of  the  Ganges  was  white  with  the  tents 
and  black  with  the  masses  of  Campbell's  force.  With 
what  wrath  Campbell's  soldiers  looked  across  the  river 
and  saw  all  their  baggage  ascending,  in  the  shape  of 
clouds  of  black  smoke,  to  the  sky  may  be  guessed, 
but  not  described.  Many  wrathful  camp  expletives, 
no  doubt,  followed  the  upward  curling  smoke ! 
-  Peel's  heavy  guns  were  swung  round,  and  opened  in 
fierce  duel  Avith  the  enemy's  battery  firing  on  the 
bridge.  One  of  the  first  shots  fired  from  one  of  Peel's 
24-pounders  struck  the  gun  which  Nana  Sahib  had  at 
last  got  to  bear  upon  the  bridge,  and  dismounted  it. 
An  8-inch  shell  next  dropped  amongst  a  crowd  of  his 
troops,  and  they  quickly  fell  back.  Then  the  British 
troops  commenced  to  file  across  the  river,  still  under 
the  fire  of  the  enemy.  The  enemy's  advance  batteries 
were  quickly  driven  back,  and  the  great  convoy  began 
to  creep  over  the  bridge. 

For  thirty-six  hours  the  long  procession  of  sick  and 
wounded,  of  women  and  children,  of  guns  and  baggage 
crept  across  the  swaying  bridge.  On  the  night  of 
the  29th,  the  mutineers  tried  to  interrupt  the  process 
by  sending  down  fire-rafts  upon  the  bridge.  Tried 
earlier,  the  scheme  might  have  succeeded,  or  tried 
even  then  with  greater  skill  and  daring,  it  might  have 
had  some  chance  of  success ;  as  it  was,  it  failed  ignobly, 
and  the  endless  stream  of  non-combatants  was  brought 
over  the  river  into  safety.     Campbell,  for  all  his  fire 


2  54   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

of  courage — and  it  may  be  added  of  temper — had  an 
ample  measure  of  Scottish  coolness,  and  he  kept 
quietly  within  his  lines  for  five  days  till  his  helpless 
convoy  had  been  despatched  under  escort  to  Allaha- 
bad, and  was  beyond  reach  of  hostile  attack.  Then, 
with  his  force  in  perfect  fighting  form,  he  addressed 
himself  to  the  task  of  crushing  the  enemy  opposed  to 
him. 

His  own  force,  steadily  fed  by  reinforcements,  by 
this  time  numbered  5000  infantry,  600  sailors,  and  35 
guns ;  that  of  the  enemy  amounted  to  something  like 
2  5 ,000  men  with  40  guns.  Nana  Sahib,  with  his  mass 
of  somewhat  irregular  troops,  occupied  the  left  wing 
between  the  city  and  the  river;  the  Gwalior  contin- 
gent, still  formidable  in  numbers  and  military  effi- 
ciency, occupied  the  town  as  a  centre,  and  formed  the 
enemy's  right  wing,  thrust  out  into  the  plain  towards 
the  canal.  It  was  a  very  strong  position.  The  enemy's 
left,  perched  on  high  wooded  hills,  was  covered  with 
nullahs  and  scattered  buildings.  An  attack  on  their 
centre  could  only  be  made  through  the  narrow  and 
crooked  streets  of  the  city,  and  was  therefore  almost 
impossible.  But  their  right  lay  open  to  Campbell's 
stroke,  and  if  turned  it  would  be  thrust  off  the  Cal- 
pee  road,  its  only  line  of  retreat. 

Campbell's  strategy  was  simple,  yet  skilful.  Alison, 
indeed,  says,  somewhat  absurdly,  that  it  will  "bear 
comparison  with  any  of  the  masterpieces  of  Napoleon 
or  Wellington."     Kaye,  too,  says  that  the  plan  of  this 


THE    SEPOY   IN    THE   OPEN  255 

battle  "  establishes  the  right  of  Sir  Colin  Campbell  to 
be  regarded  as  a  great  commander."  Whether  these 
somewhat  high-flown  eulogiums  are  justifiable  may 
perhaps  be  doubted;  but  Campbell's  plan  certainly 
succeeded.  Campbell,  in  brief,  fixed  the  attention  of 
the  enemy  on  their  left  wing — the  one  he  did  not 
mean  to  attack — by  opening  on  it  on  the  morning  of 
the  6th  with  the  roar  of  artillery.  He  paralysed  the 
centre  with  a  feigned  infantry  assault,  under  Greathed. 
Then  by  a  swift  and  unexpected  attack  he  shattered 
the  enemy's  right  wing,  at  once  smiting  it  in  front 
and  turning  its  flank. 

The  drifting  clouds  of  battle-smoke  helped  him  to 
concentrate,  unobserved,  on  his  left,  a  strong  force 
consisting  of  Hope,  with  the  Sikhs,  the  53rd,  the 
42nd,  the  93rd,  and  Inglis  with  the  23rd,  the  32nd, 
and  82nd. 

The  iron  hail  of  Campbell's  guns  smote  the  to^Ti 
cruelly,  while  the  rattle  of  Greathed's  musketry  formed 
a  sort  of  sharp  treble  to  the  hoarse  diapason  of  the 
artillery.  Presently,  through  the  white  drifting  smoke 
of  the  guns,  came  the  Rifles,  under  AYalpole,  firing  on 
the  edge  of  the  town,  to  Greathed's  left.  Campbell 
was  still  keeping  back  his  real  stroke,  and  this  clatter 
of  artillery  and  musketry,  and  the  clouds  of  drifting 
battle-smoke,  held  the  senses  of  the  enemy.  Sud- 
denly, from  behind  a  cluster  of  buildings  on  the  British 
left,  line  after  line  of  infantry  moved  quickly  out.  It 
was  Hope's  and  Inglis's  brigades,  Avhich,  in  parallel 


256    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

columns  of  companies,  left  in  front,  now — to  quote  the 
language  of  an  eye-witness — "  shot  out  and  streamed 
on,  wave  after  wave  of  glittering  bayonets,  till  they 
stretched  far  across  into  the  plain,  while  the  cavalry 
and  horse  artillery,  trotting  rapidly  out,  pushed  on 
beyond  them,  raising  clouds  of  dust,  and  covering 
their  advance." 

Campbell's  plan  was  now  developed,  and  the  enemy 
opened  all  their  guns  with  the  utmost  fury  on  the 
steady  lines  of  the  two  brigades.  At  a  given  signal, 
the  British  columns  swung  round,  formed  front  to  the 
enemy's  position,  and,  in  perfect  order,  as  Alison  puts 
it,  "swept  on  with  a  proud,  majestic  movement" 
aofainst  a  cluster  of  hiQ:h  brick  mounds  which  covered 
the  bridge  across  the  canal — both  bridge  and  mounds 
being  held  in  great  force  by  the  enemy.  "Grouped 
in  masses  behind  the  mounds,  the  rebels  fired  sharply, 
while  their  guns,  worked  with  great  precision  and 
energy,  sent  a  storm  of  shot  and  shell  upon  the  plain, 
over  Avhich,  like  a  drifting  storm,  came  the  stout  skir- 
mishers of  the  Sikhs  and  the  53  rd,  covering  their 
front  with  the  flashes  of  a  bickering  musketry,  behind 
whom  rolled  in  a  long  and  serried  line  the  93rd  and 
42nd,  sombre  with  their  gloomy  plumes  and  dark 
tartans,  followed,  some  hundred  yards  in  rear,  by 
the  thin  ranks  of  Inglis's  brigade." 

The  skirmishers  quickly  cleared  the  mounds, 
and  the  Sikhs  and  the  Highlanders  went  forward 
at  a  run  to  the  bridge.      It  was   held  with  fierce 


THE    SEPOY   IN    THE    OPEN  257 

courage  by  the  enemy.  A  sleet  of  shot  swept  along 
its  entire  length.  It  seemed  to  be  barred  as  by  a 
thousand  dancing  points  of  flame — the  flash  of  mus- 
ketry and  the  red  flames  of  the  great  guns. 

As  Sikhs  and  Highlanders,  however,  pressed  sternly 
forward,  they  heard  behind  them  the  tramp  of  many 
feet  and  the  clatter  of  wdieels.  It  was  Peel  with  his 
sailors  bringing  up  a  24-pounder.  They  came  up  at 
a  run,  the  blue-jackets  "tailing  on"  to  the  ropes,  and 
clutching  with  eager  hands  the  spokes  of  the  w^heels. 
The  gun  was  swung  round  on  the  very  bridge  itself, 
and  sent  its  grape  hurtling  into  the  ranks  of  the 
Sepoys  on  the  further  side.  Sikhs  and  Highlanders 
kindled  to  flame  at  the  sight  of  that  daring  act. 
With  a  shout  they  ran  past  the  gun,  and  across 
the  bridge ;  some  leaped  into  the  canal,  splashed 
through  its  waters  and  clambered  up  the  further  bank. 
The  bridge  was  carried !  A  battery  of  field  artillery 
came  up  at  the  gallop,  thundered  across  its  shaking 
planks,  and,  swinging  round,  opened  fire  on  the  tents 
of  the  Gwalior  contingent,  wdiile  the  tAvo  brigades 
pressed  eagerly  forward  on  the  broken  enemy. 

Forbes-Mitchell,  who  fought  that  day  in  the  ranks 
of  the  93rd,  gives  a  very  picturesque  description  of  the 
combat.  Campbell,  who  was  almost  as  fond  of  mak- 
ing speeches  as  Havelock,  and  understood  perfectly 
how  to  stir  the  blood  of  his  men,  gave  a  brief  address 
to  the  93rd  before  launching  the  turning  movement. 
He  gave  the  Highlanders  one  somewdiat  quaint  warn- 

R 


258        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

ing.  There  was  a  huge  accumulation  of  rum,  Camp- 
bell said,  in  the  enemy's  camp;  it  had  been  drugged, 
he  added,  by  the  enemy,  and  no  man  must  touch  it. 
"  But,  93rd  ! "  he  said,  "  I  trust  you  !  Leave  that  rum 
alone  ! " 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  when  the  men  swept  with  a 
rush  across  the  canal,  they  found  the  rum  against 
which  Sir  Colin  had  warned  them  standing — great 
casks  with  their  heads  knocked  out  for  the  conveni- 
ence of  intending  drunkards — in  front  of  the  enemy's 
camp,  with  their  infantry  drawn  up  in  columns  behind 
them.  "There  is  no  doubt,"  says  Forbes-Mitchell, 
"that  the  enemy  exjDected  the  British  would  break 
their  ranks  when  they  saw  the  rum,  and  make  a 
rush  for  it,  and  they  made  careful  and  tempting  provi- 
sion for  that  contingency."  That  expectation  forms  a 
somewhat  severe  commentary  on  the  thirsty  character 
the  British  private  had  won  for  himself  in  India ! 

The  93rd,  however,  virtuously  marched  past  the 
rum  barrels,  while  the  supernumerary  rank,  as 
Campbell  had  ordered,  upset  the  barrels  and  poured 
their  contents  out.  It  was,  fortunately,  not  whisky  ! 
Forbes -Mitchell,  again,  describes  hoAv,  covered  by 
the  heavy  fire  of  Peel's  guns,  their  line  advanced, 
with  the  pipers  playing  and  the  colours  in  front 
of  the  centre  company.  "  By  the  time,"  he  says, 
"  we  reached  the  canal.  Peel's  blue-jackets  were  call- 
ing out,  ' these  cow-horses  ' — meaning  the  gun 

bullocks.     '  Come,  you  93rd !     Give  us  a  hand  with 


THE    SEPOY    IN    THE    OPEN  259 

the  drag-ropes  as  you  did  at  Lucknow ; ' "  and  a 
company  of  the  93rd  shuig  their  rifles  and  dashed 
to  the  help  of  the  bhie-jackets  !  The  sailors  gave 
a  vehement  cheer  for  "  the  red  and  blue,"  and  some 
well-known  vocalist  in  the  ranks  of  the  93rd  struck 
up  a  familiar  camp-song  with  that  title,  and,  says 
Forbes-Mitchell,  "  the  whole  line,  including  the  skir- 
mishers of  the  53rd  and  the  sailors,"  joined  with 
stentorian  voices  in  sinoino' — 

"  Come,  all  you  gallant  British  hearts, 
Who  love  the  red  and  blue  ! " 

The  British  line  swept  across  the  enemy's  camp, 
and  so  complete  was  the  surprise,  so  unexpected 
was  the  onslaught,  that  the  chupatties  were  found 
in  the  very  process  of  being  cooked  upon  the  Hres, 
the  bullocks  stood  tied  behind  the  hackeries,  the 
sick  and  wounded  were  lying  in  the  hospitals.  The 
smith  left  the  forge  and  the  surgeon  his  patient 
to  fly  from  the  avenging  bayonets.  Every  tent 
was  found  exactly  as  its  late  occupants  had  sprung 
from  it. 

Beyond  the  camp  the  Gwalior  contingent  had 
rallied,  and  stood  drawn  wp  in  steady  lines.  The 
eagerly  advancing  British  line — to  the  wonder  of 
the  men — was  halted.  Suddenly  through  some  fields 
of  tall  sugar-cane  the  9th  Lancers  came  galloping, 
and  behind  them,  masked  by  the  close  lines  of  the 
Lancers,  was  a  field  battery.  When  the  enemy  saw 
the  gleaming  tips  of  the   British  lances,  they  fell 


2  6o    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GKEAT  MUTINY 

instantly  into  squares  of  brigades,  and  opened  lire 
on  the  cavalry  at  a  distance  of  about  three  hundred 
yards.  "  Just  as  they  commenced  to  fire,"  says 
Forbes  -  Mitchell,  "  we  could  hear  Sir  Hope  Grant, 
in  a  voice  as  loud  as  a  trumpet,  give  the  command 
to  the  cavalry,  '  Squadrons  outwards ! '  while  Bour- 
chier  gave  the  order  to  his  gunners,  '  Action  front ! ' 
The  cavalry  wheeled  as  if  they  had  been  at  a  review 
on  the  Calcutta  parade-ground,  and  thus  uncovered 
the  guns."  The  guns,  charged  with  grape,  were 
swung  round,  unlimbered  as  quick  as  lightning 
within  about  250  yards  of  the  squares,  and  round 
after  round  of  grape  was  poured  into  the  enemy 
with  murderous  effect,  every  charge  going  right 
through,  leaving  a  lane  of  dead  from  four  to  five 
yards  wide.  The  Highlanders  could  see  the  mounted 
officers  of  the  enemy,  as  soon  as  they  caught  sight 
of  the  guns,  dash  out  of  the  squares,  and  fly  like 
lightning  across  the  plain  ! 

The  victory,  in  a  word,  was  complete.  The  Gwalior 
contingent  was  destroyed  as  a  military  force  :  its 
camp,  magazines,  and  guns  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  British,  and  Campbell  urged  a  furious  pursuit 
of  the  broken  soldiery  along  the  Calpee  road.  For 
fourteen  miles  the  cavalry  and  horse  artillery  rode 
at  the  gallop,  capturing  amirumition  waggons  and 
baggage  carts,  dispersing  and  slaying  such  of  the 
infantry  as  still  tried  to  keep  some  formation,  till 
at   last  the  panting  rebels  Hung  away  their  arms, 


THE    SEPOY    IN    THE    OPEN  26 1 

and  fled  into  the  jungle,  or  crouched  in  the  fields 
of  sugar-cane,  seeking  cover  from  the  red  sabres 
and  lances  of  the  horsemen.  The  enemy's  centre 
had  no  choice  but  to  abandon  the  town,  and  fall 
hurriedly  back  and  melt  into  the  general  stream 
of  fugitives. 

Nana  Sahib,  with  the  left  wing,  had  the  Bithoor 
road,  diverging  widely  from  the  Calpee  road,  for  his 
line  of  retjeat,  and  Campbell  pushed  forward  a 
strong  force  under  General  Mansfield,  his  chief  of 
staff,  to  thrust  the  flying  enemy  off  that  road. 

Mansfield  was  a  brave  man,  singularly  expert  in 
the  routine  work  of  a  military  oflice,  but  quite  un- 
fitted for  the  rouofh  shock  of  the  battlefield.  For 
one  thing,  he  was  very  short-sighted,  and,  as  Malic- 
son  puts  it,  "was  too  proud  to  trust  to  the  sight 
of  others."  He  reached  the  point  where  he  com- 
manded the  road,  but  halted  his  men,  stared  with 
dim  and  spectacled  eyes  at  the  stream  of  fugitives, 
with  their  guns,  and  allowed  it  all  to  flow  past  him 
undisturbed  and  unpursued.  Nana  Sahib  himself, 
as  it  happened,  rode  somewhere  amongst  the  fugi- 
tives, unsmitten  by  British  lead !  Campbell  had 
to  despatch  Hope  Grant  the  next  day  along  the 
Bithoor  road,  in  pursuit  of  this  Aving  of  the  fugi- 
tives, and  that  fine  soldier  overtook  the  flying  enemy 
after  a  march  of  twenty-five  miles,  captured  all  their 
guns,  and  tumbled  them  into  hopeless  ruin. 

Campbell's  victory  was  splendid  and  memorable. 


262    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

With  50CO  men  lie  had  overthrown  25,000,  captured 
thh'ty-two  guns  and  the  whole  of  their  baggage,  and 
driven  his  enemy  in  flying  rout  along  two  diverging 
lines  of  retreat.  And  it  was  a  victory  won  rather 
by  the  brains  of  the  general  than  by  the  bayonets 
of  the  soldiers.  Campbell's  entire  loss  in  killed  was 
only  ninety-nine  of  all  ranks.  The  army  of  25,000 
Campbell  overthrew  so  utterly,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, included  the  best-trained  and  most  perfectly- 
equipped  native  force  in  all  India  —  the  Gwalior 
contingent,  at  least  10,000  strong. 


CHAPTER  X 

DELHI  :    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD 

ALL  the  passion,  the  tragedy,  and  the  glory  of 
-  the  Indian  Mutiny  gathers  round  three  great 
sieges.  We  vaguely  remember  a  hundred  tales  of 
individual  adventure  elseAvhere  on  the  great  stage 
of  the  Mutiny;  we  have  perhaps  a  still  fainter  and 
more  ghostly  mental  image  of  the  combats  Havel ock 
fought  on  the  road  to  Lucknow,  and  the  battles  by 
which  Campbell  crushed  this  body  of  rebels  or  that. 
But  it  is  all  a  mist  of  confused  recollections,  a 
kaleidoscope  of  fast-fading  pictures.  But  who  does 
not  remember  the  three  great  sieges  of  the  Mutiny — 
Cawnpore,  Lucknow,  Delhi  ?  The  very  names  are 
like  beacon  lights  flaming  through  leagues  of  night ! 

At  Cawnpore  the  British  were  besieged  and  de- 
stroyed, a  tragedy  due  to  Wheeler's  fatal  blunder 
in  choosing  the  site  where  the  British  were  to  make 
their  stand  for  life,  and  his  failure  in  collecting  pro- 
visions for  the  siege.  At  Lucknow,  again,  the  British 
were  besieged,  but  triumphed,  becoming  themselves 
in  turn  the  besiegers.  Success  here  was  due  to  the 
genius  of  Henry  Lawrence  in  organising  the  defences 

of  the  Residency,  and  his  energy  in  storing  supplies 

263 


264        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

before  the  Mutiny  broke  out.  The  brave  men  who 
died  behind  Wheeler's  ridges  of  earth,  or  in  the 
Slaughter  Ghaut  at  Cawn]3ore,  showed  valour  as  lofty 
and  endurino:  as  that  of  the  men  who  held  the  Kesi- 
dency  with  such  invincible  courage  at  Lucknow.  But 
the  interval  between  the  tragedy  at  Cawnpore  and  the 
triumph  at  Lucknow  is  measured  by  the  difference 
between  the  two  leaders,  Wheeler  and  Lawrence. 
Both  were  brave  men,  but  Lawrence  was  a  great 
captain. 

At  Delhi  the  British,  from  the  outset,  were  the 
besiegers,  and  nothing  in  British  history — not  the 
story  of  Sir  Kichard  Grenville  and  the  Revenge, 
of  the  Fusileers  at  Albuera,  or  of  the  Guards  at 
Inkerman — is  a  more  kindling  tale  of  endurance 
and  valour  than  the  story  of  how  for  months  a 
handful  of  British  clung  to  the  Ridge  outside  Delhi, 
fighting  daily  with  foes  ten  times  more  numerous 
than  themselves,  and  yet  besieging — or  maintaining 
the  show  of  besieging — the  great  city  which  was  the 
nerve-centre  and  heart  of  the  whole  Mutiny. 

At  Cawnpore  and  Lucknow  the  British  fought 
for  existence.  At  Delhi  they  fought  for  empire ! 
While  the  British  flag  flew  from  the  Ridge  at  Delhi 
it  was  a  symbol  that  the  British  raj  was  still 
undestroyed.  It  was  a  red  gleaming  menace  of 
punishment  to  all  rebels.  Had  that  flag  fallen  for 
twenty-four  hours,  India,  for  a  time  at  least,  would 
have  been  lost  to  England.     But  it  flew  proudly  and 


LORD  la\vrp:nce 


Reproduced  from  the  Life  of  Lord  Laivrence  by  ferniission  of 
R.   BoswciKTH  Smith,  Esq. 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       265 

threateningly  aloft,  undestroyed  by  a  hundred  attacks, 
till  at  last  Nicholson  led  his  stormers  through  the 
Cashmere  Gate,  and  the  fate  of  the  Mutiny  was 
sealed ! 

The  mutineers  from  Meerut  rode  into  Delhi  on 
May  II.  It  was  the  city  of  the  Great  Mogul.  It 
appealed  by  a  thousand  memories  to  both  the  race- 
pride  and  the  fanaticism  of  the  revolted  Sepoys. 
Here  the  Mutiny  found,  not  only  a  natural  strong- 
hold, but  an  official  head,  and  Delhi  thus  became  a 
far-seen  signal  of  revolt  to  the  whole  of  Northern 
India.  But  on  June  7 — or  less  than  four  weeks 
after  Willoughby  in  heroic  despair  blew  up  the 
great  magazine  at  Delhi — Sir  Henry  Barnard's 
microscopic  army  made  its  appearance  on  the 
Ridge,  and  the  siege  of  Delhi  began.  It  was  a  real 
stroke  of  military  genius  that  thus,  from  the  earliest 
outbreak  of  the  Mutiny,  kept  a  bayonet,  so  to  speak, 
pointed  threateningly  at  its  very  heart ! 

And  the  hero  of  the  siege  of  Delhi  is  not  Barnard, 
or  Wilson,  or  Baird-Smith,  or  Neville  Chamberlain, 
or  Nicholson — but  a  man  who  never  fired  a  shot  or 
struck  a  sword-stroke  in  the  actual  siege  itself — 
John  Lawrence.  Lawrence,  and  not  Havelock,  nor 
Outram,  nor  Canning,  was  the  true  saviour  of  the 
British  raj  in  India  in  the  wild  days  of  the  Mutiny. 

John  Lawrence  was  five  years  younger  than  his 
gallant  brother  Henry,  who  died  in  the  Residency  at 
Lucknow.     He  had  no  visible  gleam  of  the  brilliancy 


266    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

which  makes  Henry  Lawrence  a  character  so  attrac- 
tive. Up  to  middle  life,  indeed,  John  Lawrence  was 
a  silent,  inarticulate,  rugged  man,  with  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  a  great  worker,  but  whom  nobody 
suspected  to  be  a  genius,  and  for  whom  nobody — 
least  of  all  Lawrence  himself — dreamed  fame  was 
waiting.  He  came  of  that  strong-bodied,  strong- 
brained,  masterful  race  of  which  the  North  of 
Ireland  is  the  cradle.  But  England,  Ireland,  and 
Scotland  all  had  a  share  in  the  making  of  John 
Lawrence.  He  was  actually  born  in  England.  His 
father  was  a  gallant  Irish  soldier,  who  led  the  forlorn 
hope  at  the  storming  of  Seringapatam.  His  mother 
was  a  lineal  descendant  of  John  Knox,  the  Scottish 
reformer.  And  perhaps  the  characteristic  traits  of 
the  three  countries  never  met  more  happily  in  a 
single  human  character  than  in  John  Lawrence.  In 
Ulster  he  was  known  amongst  his  schoolmates  as 
"English  John."  At  Haileybury,  in  England,  he 
was  looked  upon  as  a  typical  Irishman. 

The  truth  is,  he  was  Englishman,  Irishman, 
Scotchman  all  in  one.  He  had  Celtic  glow  and  fire 
under  a  crust  of  Scottish  silence  and  caution ;  and  he 
added  the  Englishman's  steady  intelligence  and  pas- 
sion for  justice  to  Scottish  hard-headedness  and  the 
generous  daring  of  the  Irish  character.  Or,  to  put 
the  matter  in  a  different  way,  in  any  perilous  crisis 
he  could  survey  the  situation  with  the  balanced 
judgment  of  an  Englishman ;  could  choose  his  course 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       267 

with  the  shrewd  and  calculating  sagacity  of  a  Scotch- 
man ;  then  carry  it  out  with  Irish  fire  and  daring ! 

Lawrence  shone  as  a  youth  neither  in  studies  nor 
in  games,  and  both  as  a  youth  and  man  he  had  a  mag- 
nificent faculty  for  silence.  By  blood  and  genius 
ho  was  a  soldier.  But  duty  was  the  supreme  law  of 
life  for  him  ;  and  at  the  bidding  of  what  he  deemed 
to  be  duty,  he  surrendered  a  soldier's  career  and 
entered  the  Indian  Civil  Service.  His  silent  energy, 
his  strong  brain,  his  passion  for  work,  his  chivalrous 
lo3^alty  to  righteousness,  quickly  assured  him  a  great 
career.  He  was  above  the  middle  height,  strongly 
built,  with  an  eager,  forward  gait.  His  massive  head 
gave  him  a  sort  of  kingly  look — the  forehead  broad, 
the  eyes  deep-set  and  grey,  but  with  a  gleam  in  them 
as  of  a  sword-blade.  The  firm  lips  had  a  saddened 
curve ;  the  face  was  ploughed  deep  with  furrows 
of  thouGfht  and  work.  His  voice,  when  his  feelinirs 
were  aroused,  had  a  singular  resonance  and  timbre, 
and  his  whole  aspect  was  that  of  silent,  half-melan- 
choly simplicity  and  strength. 

But  Lawrence  was  exactly  the  man  for  a  great 
crisis.  He  had  a  kingly  faculty  for  choosing  fit  in- 
struments. He  saw  with  perfect  clearness  every 
detail  of  the  visible  landscape  ;  but  he  had  also  that 
subtler  vision — which  only  great  poets  and  great 
statesmen  possess — of  the  tendencies  and  forces 
which  underlie  external  facts  and  determine  their 
flow.      The   Celtic   element   in   him,   perhaps,   gave 


268    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Lawrence  that  rare  and  subtle  faculty ;  but  by  virtue 
of  his  Scottish  strain  he  was  essentially  a  man  of 
action.  He  could  grasp  a  great  purpose  with  a  hand 
of  steel,  and  hold  it  unshaken  through  all  the  shocks 
of  conflict  and  adversity. 

Lawrence,  it  may  be  added,  was  pre-eminently 
fortunate  in  his  officers.  Partly  by  the  attraction 
which  draws  like  to  like,  and  partly  by  his  own  rare 
genius  for  choosing  fit  instruments,  he  had  gathered 
round  him  a  group  of  splendid  soldiers  and  adminis- 
trators, all  in  the  prime  of  life.  Nicholson,  for  ex- 
ample, was  only  thirty-five ;  Edwardes  and  Neville 
Chamberlain  only  thirty-seven.  The  general  average 
of  age,  indeed,  on  Lawrence's  staff  was  much  below 
that  of  India  in  general.  All  the  energy  of  youth,  in 
brief,  was  in  Lawrence's  men ;  all  the  sagacity  of 
ripest  statesmanship  was  in  Lawrence  himself. 

Lawrence's  contribution  to  the  history  of  the 
Mutiny  must  be  compressed  into  a  dozen  sentences. 
In  1857  he  was  Chief  Commissioner  of  the  Punjaub, 
the  "land  of  the  five  rivers,"  with  a  population  of 
20,000,000.  The  Punjaub  was  newly-conquered  terri- 
tory ;  its  population  was  the  most  warlike  in  India ; 
its  frontiers  marched  for  800  miles  with  those  of 
Afghanistan,  and  the  hill  passes  were  held  by  wild 
Moslem  clans  always  ready  to  storm  down  with  clatter- 
ing shield  and  gleaming  spear  on  the  fat,  defenceless 
plains  at  their  feet.  In  eight  years,  under  the  regmie 
of  the  Lawrences,  the  Punjaub  was  rendered  orderly, 


DELHI:    HOW   THE   BTDGE   WAS   HELD      269 

loyal,  and  prosperous ;  Avhile  the  Punjaub  Frontier 
Force,  a  body  of  12,000  men,  which  kept  the  mountain 
tribes  in  order,  was  perhaps  the  first  body  of  native 
troops  which  ever  followed  British  ofiicers  into  battle. 

Then  came  the  cataclysm  of  the  Mutiny.  As  with 
the  shock  of  an  earthquake,  British  rule  in  Northern 
India  seemed  to  crumble  to  the  ground,  and  British 
officers  who  yesterday  were  rulers  of  kingdoms  and 
cities,  were  to-day  fugitives,  or  fighting  in  tiny  and 
broken  clusters  for  their  lives.  The  Mutiny,  too,  cut 
Oude  and  the  Punjaub  oft*  from  the  centre  of  autho- 
rity at  Calcutta.  For  weeks  no  whisper  from  the 
outside  world  reached  Lawrence.  He  was  left  to 
keep  his  own  head  and  shape  his  own  policy. 

His  policy  may  be  told  almost  in  a  sentence.  He 
anticipated  mutiny,  and  outpaced  it.  He  disarmed 
with  iron  resolution  and  swift  decision  all  the  Sepoy 
regiments  whose  loyalty  was  doubtful,  and  put  all 
the  forts,  arsenals,  treasuries,  and  strategic  points  in 
the  Punjaub  under  the  guard  of  British  bayonets. 
Then  he  organised  a  movable  column  of  European 
troops — scanty  in  dimensions,  but  of  the  finest  fight- 
ing quality — under  the  command,  first,  of  Neville 
Chamberlain,  and  next  of  Nicholson ;  and  this  force 
stood  ready  to  strike  at  any  point  where  mutiny 
threatened  to  lift  its  head.  In  the  Punjaub,  that  is, 
mutiny  was  anticipated,  robbed  of  weapons  and  left 
helpless,  and  under  the  ceaseless  menace  of  the  light- 
footed,  almost  ubiquitous,  movable  column. 


2  70    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

Next,  having  dismissed  into  air,  as  with  a  gesture 
of  his  hand,  the  army  whose  loyalty  was  tainted, 
Lawrence  had  to  create  another  native  army,  with 
loyalty  above  reproach.  And  from  the  wild  moun- 
tain clans  and  the  Sikhs — themselves  a  conquered 
people — Lawrence  actually  created  a  new  army,  nearly 
50,000  strong,  with  which  he  was  able  to  crush  the 
very  Sepoys  who,  under  British  leadership,  had  been 
the  conquerors  of  the  Punjaub  ! 

Lawrence's  genius  and  masterful  will,  too,  deter- 
mined the  whole  strategy  to  be  employed  for  the  sup- 
pression of  the  Mutiny.  He  settled  the  question  that 
Delhi  must  be  instantly  besieged.  He  formed  a  mili- 
tary base  for  the  siege  at  Umballa,  a  distance  of  a 
hundred  miles,  and  he  kept  sleepless  guard  over  that 
long:  line  of  communications.  He  fed  the  besieoinef 
force  with  supplies  and  munitions  of  every  kind ; 
reinforced  it  with,  first,  his  own  frontier  troops,  the 
famous  Guides  and  the  Ghoorkas,  and,  later,  Avith  his 
own  movable  column.  He  cast  into  the  scale  asfainst 
Delhi,  in  effect,  his  last  coin,  his  last  cartridge,  and 
his  last  man.  And  in  that  terrible  game,  on  which 
hung  the  fate  of  the  British  rule  in  India,  Lawrence 
Avon  !  "  Through  him,"  wrote  Lord  Canning,  "  Delhi 
fell."  And  the  fall  of  Delhi  rang  the  knell  of  the 
Mutiny. 

Once,  it  is  true,  even  John  Lawrence's  iron  courage 
seemed  to  give  Avay,  or,  rather,  the  strain  of  the  peril 
threw  his  cool  judgment  off  its  balance.     The  fate  of 


MAJOR-GENERAL   SIR    HERBERT    B.    EDWARDES, 

K.C.B.,    K. C.S.I. 


From  a  lithograph 


DELHI:    HOW    THE   KIDGE    WAS    HELD       27 1 

India  visibly  hung  on  Delhi.  The  force  on  the  Ridge 
was  absurdly  inadequate  for  its  task,  and  Lawrence 
conceived  the  idea  that,  to  succeed  at  Delhi,  it  would 
be  necessary  to  abandon  Peshawur,  give  up  the  Pun- 
jaub  to  Dost  Mohammed,  and  retire  across  the  Indus. 
There  were  three  European  regiments,  with  powerful 
artillery,  and  the  best  native  troops  locked  up  beyond 
the  Indus.  On  the  Ridge  at  Delhi  they  would  decide 
the  issue  of  the  siege.  "  If  Delhi  does  not  fall,"  Law- 
rence argued,  "  Peshawur  must  go.  Let  us  abandon 
the  Punjaub  for  the  sake  of  Delhi." 

It  is  still  thrilling  to  read  the  sentences  in  which 
Herbert  Edwardes  protested  against  this  evil  policy. 
To  abandon  Peshawur,  he  urged,  would  be  to  fail  not 
only  at  Delhi,  but  all  over  India.  "  Cabul  would 
come  again  1 "  Lawrence  quoted  Napoleon  against 
Edwardes.  Did  not  Napoleon  ruin  himself  in  18 14 
by  holding  fast  to  the  line  of  the  Elbe  instead  of  fall- 
ing back  to  the  Rhine  ?  But  Edwardes  knew  the 
Eastern  mind.  India  is  not  Europe.  To  waver,  to 
seem  to  w^ithdraw,  to  consent  to  disaster,  was  to  be 
ruined.  To  abandon  the  Punjaub,  Edwardes  warned 
Lawrence,  was  to  abandon  the  cause  of  England  in 
the  East.  "  Every  hand  in  India  would  be  against  us. 
Don't  yield  an  inch  of  frontier  !  ...  If  General  Reed, 
with  all  the  men  you  have  sent  him,  cannot  get  into 
Delhi,  let  Delhi  go.  The  Empire's  reconquest  hangs 
on  the  Punj  aub."  Then  he  quotes  Nelson  against  Law- 
rence.    "  Make  a  stand  !     '  Anchor,  Hardy,  anchor  ! ' " 


2/2    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

The  quotation  was,  perhaps,  not  very  relevant ;  but  it 
is  curious  to  note  how  one  brave  spirit  seems  to  speak 
to  another  across  half  a  century,  and  give  a  new  edge 
to  its  courage. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Edwardes  showed,  at 
this  moment,  not  only  the  more  heroic  temper,  but 
the  sounder  judgment  of  the  tAvo.  Canning  settled 
the  dispute.  "  Hold  on  to  Peshawur  to  the  last,"  he 
wrote ;  and  the  question  was  decided.  But  Lawrence's 
momentary  lapse  into  indecision  only  sets  in  more 
dazzling  light  his  courage  afterwards.  It  was  after 
he  had  seriously  meditated  abandoning  the  Punjaub 
that  he  despatched  the  immortal  movable  column, 
under  Nicholson,  4200  strong,  with  a  powerful  batter- 
ing-train, to  Delhi,  thus  feeding  the  gallant  force  on 
the  Ridge  with  his  own  best  troops,  and  yet  not  giving 
up  "  an  inch  of  the  frontier,"  or  abating  one  whit  of 
his  own  haughty  rule  in  the  Punjaub  ! 

General  Anson,  as  we  have  seen,  was  commander- 
in-chief  in  India  when  the  Mutiny  broke  out.  He  was 
a  brave  man,  had  fought  as  an  ensign  at  Waterloo, 
and  had  seen  forty-three  years'  bloodless  service 
after  that  great  battle.  But  his  gifts  were  rather 
social  than  soldierly.  He  was  a  better  authority  on 
whist  and  horses  than  on  questions  of  tactics  and 
strategy,  and  he  was  scarcely  the  man  to  face  an  army 
in  revolt.  Lawrence  acted  as  a  military  brain  and 
conscience  for  Anson,  and  determined  that  Delhi 
must  be  attacked ;  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Anson 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       273 

had  only  three  regiments  of  British  troops,  almost  no 
artillery,  and  absolutely  no  transport  at  his  command. 

On  May  16  Anson  held  a  council  of  war  with  his 
five  senior  officers  at  Umballa,  and  the  council 
agreed  unanimously  that,  with  the  means  at  Anson's 
command,  nothing  could  be  done.  It  is  a  curious 
fact,  showing  the  speed  with  which,  from  this  point, 
events  moved,  that,  within  less  than  two  months 
from  the  date  of  that  council,  all  its  members  were 
dead  —  either  killed  in  battle,  or  killed  by  mere 
exposure  and  strain !  But  Lawrence's  views  pre- 
vailed. "  Pray,  only  reflect  on  the  whole  history  of 
India,"  he  wrote  to  Anson.  "  Where  have  we  failed 
when  we  have  acted  vigorously  ?  Where  have  we 
succeeded  when  guided  by  timid  counsels  ?  " 

Anson  and  his  advisers  gave  that  highest  proof 
of  courage  which  brave  men  can  offer :  they  moved 
forward  without  a  murmur  on  an  adventure  which 
they  believed  to  be  hopeless.  From  an  orthodox 
military  point  of  view  it  was  hopeless.  Only,  the 
British  empire  in  India  has  been  built  up  by  the 
doing  of  "  hopeless  "  things. 

On  May  24  Anson  reached  Kurnal,  where  his 
troops  were  to  arrive  four  days  afterwards.  On 
the  26th  Anson  himself  was  dead,  killed  by  cholera 
after  only  four  hours'  illness ! 

Sir  Henry  Barnard,  who  succeeded  him,  had  been 
Chief  of  the  Stafi'  in  the  Crimea.  He  was  an  utter 
stranger  to   India,  having  landed  in  it  only  a  few 

S 


2  74    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

■weeks  before.  He  was  a  brave  soldier,  and  a  high- 
minded  English  gentleman;  but  he  was,  perhaps, 
even  less  of  a  general  than  Anson.  His  force 
consisted  of  2400  infantry,  600  cavalry,  and  22 
field-guns.  Barnard  had  to  fight  one  fierce  and 
bloody  combat  before  he  reached  the  Delhi  Ridge. 
This  took  place  on  June  7.  It  was  the  first  time  the 
British  and  the  mutineers  had  met  in  the  shock 
of  battle  ;  and  the  Sepoys  who  had  revolted  at 
Meerut,  and  the  British  troops  who  had  been  so 
strangely  held  back  from  crushing  the  revolt  at 
the  moment  of  its  outbreak,  now  looked  grimly  at 
each  other  across  a  narrow  interval  of  sun-baked 
turf.  Lord  Roberts  says  that  when,  as  night  fell 
on  June  6,  it  was  known  that  the  troops  were  to 
move  forward  and  attack  the  rebel  force  which 
stood  in  their  path  to  Delhi,  the  sick  in  hospital 
declared  they  would  remain  there  no  longer,  and 
"many  quite  unfit  to  walk  insisted  upon  accom- 
panying the  attacking  column,  imploring  their  com- 
rades not  to  mention  they  were  ill,  for  fear  they 
should  not  be  allowed  to  take  part  in  the  fight ! " 

The  rebels  fought  with  an  obstinacy  unsurpassed 
in  the  whole  record  of  the  Mutiny;  but  British 
troops  in  such  a  mood  as  we  have  described,  were 
not  to  be  stayed.  The  75  th  carried  the  rebel  guns 
at  the  point  of  the  bayonet ;  Hope  Grant  with  his 
scanty  squadrons  of  horse  swept  round  their  left 
flank.      The   British  lost  less  than  200  killed  and 


DELHI 

1857. 

Scale          » 
K           Vz           Vx 

Walker  &  Cockered  iC. 


2/6    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

wounded,  the  rebels  lost  over  looo  men  and  13 
guns ;  and,  as  night  fell,  Barnard  took  possession 
of  the  famous  Ridge.  Then  from  the  streets  of 
the  revolted  city,  the  crowds  looked  up  and  saw 
the  British  flag,  a  gleaming  and  fluttering  menace, 
a  stern  prophecy  of  defeat  and  retribution,  flying 
from  the  Flagstaff  Tower. 

Delhi  lies  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Jumna ;  and 
nearly  six  miles  of  massive  stone  wall  twenty-four 
feet  high,  with  a  ditch  twenty-five  feet  broad  and 
nearly  as  many  feet  deep  in  front,  sweep  round  the 
city,  forming  a  bow,  of  which  the  river  is  the  string. 
Napier,  afterwards  Lord  Napier  of  Magdala,  had  em- 
ployed his  rare  skill  as  an  engineer  in  strengthen- 
ing the  defences  of  the  city.  The  walls  were  knotted 
with  bastions,  mounting  114  heavy  guns.  Behind 
them  was  a  huge  fanatical  population  and  over 
40,000  revolted  Sepoys,  with  some  60  field-guns 
and  exhaustlcss  magazines  of  warlike  supplies. 
Every  week,  from  one  revolted  station  after  an- 
other, new  waves  of  mutineers  flowed  into  the 
city.  Some  3000  British  soldiers,  with  a  few  bat- 
talions of  native  troops,  and  22  light  guns,  stood 
perched  on  the  Ridge  to  undertake  the  desperate 
feat  of  besieging  this  huge  stronghold ! 

The  historic  Ridge,  it  may  be  explained,  is  a  low 
hill,  not  quite  sixty  feet  high,  and  some  two  miles 
long,  running  obliquely  towards  the  city  walls.  Its 
left  touches  the  Jumna  itself,  at  a  distance  of  more 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD      2/7 

than  two  miles  from  the  city ;  its  right  was  within 
1200  yards  of  the  hostile  walls.  At  the  middle  of 
the  Ridge  stood  the  Flagstaff  Tower.  On  its  right 
extremity  the  Ridge  overlooked  the  trunk  road, 
and  was  surrounded  by  a  fringe  of  houses  and 
gardens,  making  it  the  weak  point  of  the  British 
position.  The  various  buildings  along  the  crest  of 
the  Ridge,  Hindu  Rao's  house,  the  observatory,  an 
old  Pathan  mosque,  the  Flagstaff  Tower,  &c.,  were 
held  by  strong  pickets,  each  with  one  or  more 
field-guns.  The  external  slope  of  the  Ridge  was 
covered  with  old  buildings  and  enclosures,  giving 
the  enemy  dangerous  shelter  in  their  attacks.  The 
main  body  of  the  British  was  encamped  on  the 
reverse  slope  of  the  Ridge, 

Delhi,  it  will  be  seen,  was  in  no  sense  "  invested." 
Supplies  and  reinforcements  flowed  in  with  perfect 
safety  on  its  river  front  throughout  the  whole  siege. 
All  that  Barnard  and  his  men  could  do  was  to  keep 
the  British  flag  flying  on  the  Ridge,  and  hold  their 
ground  with  obstinate,  unquenchable  courage,  against 
almost  daily  assaults,  until  reinforcements  reached 
them,  and  they  could  leap  on  the  city. 

The  first  reinforcement  to  arrive  took  the  sur- 
prising shape  of  a  baby !  One  officer  alone,  Tytler, 
of  the  38th  Native  Infantry,  had  brought  his  wife 
into  the  camp ;  she  was  too  ill  to  be  sent  to  the 
rear,  and,  in  a  rough  waggon  for  bed-chamber,  gave 
birth  to  a  son,  who  was  solemnly  named  "  Stanley 


278    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GKEAT  MUTINY 

Delhi  Force."  The  soldiers  welcomed  the  infant 
with  an  odd  mixture  of  humour  and  superstition. 
A  British  private  was  overheard  to  say,  "  Now  we 
shall  get  our  reinforcements.  This  camp  was  formed 
to  avenge  the  blood  of  innocents,  and  the  first  re- 
inforcement sent  us  is  a  new-born  infant ! " 

The  next  day  the  famous  Guides  sent  by  Lawrence 
from  his  Frontier  Force  marched  into  camp,  three 
troops  of  cavalry  and  six  companies  of  infantry, 
under  Daly,  an  officer  of  great  daring  and  energy. 
This  little  force  had  marched  580  miles  in  twenty 
days,  a  feat  of  endurance  unsurpassed  in  Indian 
history.  The  cavalry  consisted  mainly  of  Afghans, 
tall,  swarthy,  fierce-looking.  The  Ghoorkas  were 
sturdy,  undersized  little  Highlanders,  born  fighters 
all  of  them,  and  ready  to  follow  their  commanding 
officer.  Major  Reid,  on  any  dare-devil  feat  to  which 
he  might  lead  them.  The  battalion  numbered  490 
men,  and  of  these  no  less  than  320 — or  three  out 
of  four — were  killed  or  wounded  during  the  siege. 
On  the  day  of  the  assault  (September  14)  no  fewer 
than  180  of  them,  who  were  lying  sick  or  wounded 
in  the  hospital,  volunteered  for  the  assault,  and 
came  limping  and  bandaged  into  the  ranks  of  their 
comrades,  to  join  in  the  mad  rush  through  the 
Cashmere  Gate ! 

The  revolted  Sepoys,  on  their  side,  were  full  of  a 
fierce  energy  quite  unusual  to  them,  and  on  the  very 
first  day  they  flung  themselves  in  great  numbers, 


DELHI:   HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       279 


and  with  great  daring,  on  the  detachment  holding 
Hindu  Rao's  house.  Two  companies  of  the  60th 
held  this  post,  with  two  guns  from  Scott's  battery; 
and  for  half  the  afternoon  the  quick  flashes,  the 
white  smoke  of  cannon,  and  the  incessant  rattle  of 
musketry  round  the  assailed  post  told  with  what 
fury  the  attack  was  being  urged,  and  how  stubbornly 
the  defence  was  being  maintained. 

At  last  the  cavalry  of  the  newly-arrived  Guides 
was  sent  at  the  enemy.  They  rode  in  upon  the 
Sepoys  with  magnificent  courage,  broke  them  into 
flying  fragments,  and  pursued  them,  wounding  and 
slaying,  to  the  walls  of  the  city.  Their  victory  was 
brilliant,  but  it  was  dearly  bought,  their  commander, 
Quentin  Battye,  being  mortally  wounded.  He  was 
little  more  than  a  lad,  but  was  almost  worshipped  by 
his  dark-faced  horsemen.  He  had  been  an  English 
public-school  boy,  and.  Lord  Roberts  says,  Avas 
curiously  fond  of  quotations.  Almost  his  last  words, 
spoken  to  a  friend,  were,  "  Good-bye !  '  Dulce  et 
decorum  est  pro  patria  mori.'  That's  how  it  is 
with  me,  old  fellow ! "  The  victories  of  England 
are  still  won,  as  in  Wellington's  days,  on  the  playing 
grounds  of  its  great  schools. 

The  Guides  found  in  the  camp  a  soldier  of  mmgled 
yet  splendid  fame  who  had  been  their  leader  in 
many  a  gallant  charge — Hodson,  of  Hodson's  Horse. 
Hodson  had  been,  rightly  or  wrongly,  under  a  cloud ; 
but  the  crisis  of  the  Mutiny  naturally  gave,  to  the 


2  8o    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

most  daring  horseman  and  the  most  brilhant  Hght 
cavalry  leader  in  India,  a  great  opportunity.  He 
was  now  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  irregular  horse, 
and  one  of  Barnard's  most  trusted  officers.  He  was 
tall,  fair-haired,  with  bloodless  complexion,  heavy 
curved  moustache,  and  keen,  alert,  and  what  some 
one  called  "  unforgiving  "  eyes. 

When  the  Guides,  as  they  rode  into  the  camp, 
met  Hodson,  a  curious  scene  took  place.  They 
crowded  round  him  with  wild  gesticulations  and 
deep-voiced,  guttural  shouts.  "  They  seized  my 
bridle,"  says  Hodson  himself,  "my  dress,  hands, 
and  feet,  and  literally  threw  themselves  down  before 
the  horse  with  tears  streaming  down  their  faces ! " 
Hodson  was  the  ideal  leader  for  fierce  irregulars  like 
the  Guides,  a  brilliant  swordsman,  of  iron  nerve,  and 
courage  as  steadfast  as  the  blade  of  his  own  sword. 
And  with  leaders  like  Daly,  and  Hodson,  and  Reid, 
and  Batty e,  Sikhs  and  Ghoorkas  made  soldiers  that 
might  have  charged  through  Russian  Life  Guards, 
or  broken  a  square  of  Pomeranian  Grenadiers ! 

On  June  lo  the  Sepoys  delivered  another  attack, 
in  great  strength,  on  Hindu  Rao's  house,  which  they 
looked  upon  as  the  key  of  the  British  position,  and 
which  was  held  on  this  day  by  the  Ghoorkas  under 
Reid.  The  Sepoys  hoped  that  the  Ghoorkas  would 
join  them,  and,  as  they  came  on,  instead  of  firing, 
they  waved  their  hands,  and  shouted,  "Don't  fire. 
We   are   not   firing.      Wo   want   to   speak    to    you. 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       28 1 

Come  and  join  us."  "Oh  yes!  we  are  coming," 
answered  the  sturdy  Httle  Ghoorkas,  with  fierce, 
jesting  humour,  and,  running  forward  to  within 
thirty  yards  of  the  Sepoys,  they  poured  a  quick 
and  deadly  fire  upon  them,  driving  them  back  with 
great  slaughter.  From  that  stage  of  the  siege, 
Hindu  Rao's  house,  perhaps  the  most  fiercely 
attacked  point  in  the  British  front,  was  held  by 
Reid  and  his  Ghoorkas,  and  a  better  officer  or 
better  men  were  not  to  be  found  on  the  Ridge. 

The  more  eager  spirits  among  the  British  were 
burning  to  leap  on  the  city,  and,  on  June  12,  a  plan 
of  attack  was  actually  prepared  by  the  engineer  officers 
and  Hodson,  and  approved  by  Barnard.  The  whole 
force  was  to  be  divided  into  three  columns ;  one  was 
to  break  its  way  through  the  Cashmere  Gate,  a  second 
through  the  Lahore  Gate,  a  third  was  to  fling  itself  on 
the  walls,  and  attempt  an  escalade — practically,  the 
same  plan  by  which  the  city  was  finally  carried.  It 
was  a  project,  considering  the  force  available  for  its 
execution,  almost  insane  in  its  daring ;  and  Barnard, 
though  he  consented  to  it,  took  no  decided  and 
methodical  steps  to  carry  it  out. 

It  would  almost  seem,  indeed,  as  if  physical  strain, 
want  of  sleep,  and  the  terrible  responsibility  he  was 
carrying,  had  affected  Barnard's  head.  The  situation 
might  well  have  taxed — and  over-taxed — the  brain  of 
a  greater  general  than  Barnard.  The  light  guns  of 
the  British,  firing  at  a  distance  of  a  thousand  yards, 


2  82    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

could  make  no  impression  on  the  walls.  Their 
strength  was  dwindling  daily ;  that  of  the  enemy  was 
growing  fast.  And  it  was  natural  that  the  British 
temper,  under  such  conditions,  should  become  explo- 
sive, and  that  the  more  daring  spirits  were  eager,  in 
the  face  of  any  risks,  to  come  to  the  sword's  point  with 
their  enemies.  The  General's  nerve  was  curiously 
shaken.  Hope  Grant  tells  how  Sir  Henry  Barnard 
sent  for  him  on  the  evening  of  the  12th :  "  He  hushed 
me  into  a  whisper,  and  asked  me  if  I  thought  any 
person  could  possibly  overhear  us,  adding,  '  There  is 
treason  around  us.'  Then  he  explained,  '  I  mean  to 
attack  the  town  to-night.' "  Barnard's  manner  pro- 
duced on  Hope  Grant's  mind  the  impression  that  his 
brain  was  slightly  off  its  balance. 

At  one  o'clock  that  night  the  troops  were  suddenly 
paraded,  ammunition  served  out,  and  leaders  assigned 
to  the  three  columns.  But  the  75th  Foot  had,  some- 
how, been  left  at  the  extreme  front  without  orders, 
and  before  they  could  be  brought  up  the  grey  dawn 
was  breaking,  and  the  proposed  attack  had  to  be  aban- 
doned. Lord  Roberts  says  that  this  "  blunder "  was 
''a  merciful  dispensation,  which  saved  the  British 
from  an  irreparable  disaster."  That  was  not  Hodson's 
judgment.  In  his  journal  he  says  :  "  The  attack  was 
frustrated  by  the  fears  and  absolute  disobedience  to 

orders  of ,  the  man  who  first  lost  Delhi,  and  has 

now,  by  his  folly,  prevented  its  being  recaptured."  But 
Hodson  was  more  impatient  and  blunt-spoken  than  is 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    AVAS    HELD       283 

permissible  to  even  a  gallant  soldier,  and  his  diary 
reflects,  perhaps,  rather  the  condition  of  his  liver 
than  the  deliberate  judgment  of  his  head.    Thus  he 

writes:   "That  old  woman  ,  has  come  here  for 

nothing  apparently,  but  as  an  obstacle ;  is  also 

a  crying  evil  to  us  ! " 

On  the  12th,  indeed,  the  Sepoys  themselves  were 
attacking  Flagstaff  Tower  with  great  fury,  but  were 
repelled  with  steady  valour.  On  June  14,  General 
Reed  arrived  in  camp ;  he  was  in  chief  divisional  com- 
mand, and  should  at  once  have  taken  over  the  charge 
of  the  siege  from  Barnard ;  but  a  ride  of  500  miles  had 
left  him  little  better  than  a  physical  wreck,  and  Bar- 
nard still  remained  in  command. 

On  the  13th,  14th,  and  15th  there  were  new  attacks 
pluckily  urged  by  the  Sepoys,  and  repelled  with  cool 
and  stern  courage  by  the  British.  "  They  came  on," 
is  Hodson's  summary,  "very  boldly,  and  got  most 
heartily  thrashed."  On  the  17th  the  British  were 
attacked  along  their  whole  front,  and  from  almost 
every  direction,  and  an  attempt  was  made  to  con- 
struct a  battery  which  would  enfilade  the  Bidge. 
Two  small  columns,  under  Tombs  and  Reid,  were 
sent  out  with  a  dash,  broke  up  the  proposed  battery 
in  brilliant  style,  and  drove  the  troops  that  covered 
it  in  wild  and  bloody  flight  to  the  city  walls. 

Week  after  week  the  fighting  went  on  most  gallantly, 
and  the  story  gleams  with  records  of  shining  pluck ; 
it  rings  with  the  clash  of  steel  on  steel ;  it  thrills  to 


284    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

the  rattle  of  musketry  volleys  and  the  deeper  voice  of 
the  cannon.  Thus  Hope  Grant  tells  how,  on  the  night 
of  the  1 9th,  from  sunset  till  half-past  eleven,  he  kept 
back,  by  repeated  charges  of  squadrons  of  the  9th 
Lancers  and  the  Guides,  with  the  help  of  some  field- 
guns,  an  attack  on  the  rear  of  the  British  position. 

The  fighting  was  close  and  furious.  As  Daly  came 
up  through  the  darkness  into  the  fight.  Tombs  said, 
"  Daly,  if  you  don't  charge,  my  guns  are  taken  ; "  and 
Daly,  shaking  his  reins,  and  followed  by  a  handful  of 
his  Guides,  dashed  on  the  enemy,  and  saved  the  guns. 
Colonel  Yule,  of  the  9th  Lancers,  was  killed;  Daly 
himself  was  severely  wounded ;  and  the  enemy,  in  the 
dark,  worked  round  the  flanks  of  the  British  guns, 
and  two  of  the  pieces  were  on  the  point  of  being  taken. 

Hope  Grant  collected  a  few  men,  and  rode  fiercely 
into  the  enemy's  ranks.  His  horse  was  shot,  and, 
galloping  wildly  into  the  mass  of  Sepoys,  fell  dead. 
Hope  Grant  was  thus  left  unhorsed  in  the  darkness, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  enemy  !  His  orderly,  a  fine, 
tall  Sowar,  who  had  remained  loyal  when  his  regi- 
ment mutinied,  was  in  a  moment  by  his  side,  and 
cried,  "  Take  my  horse  ;  it  is  your  only  chance  of 
safety."  Hope  Grant  refused  the  generous  offer, 
and,  taking  a  firm  grasp  of  the  horse's  tail,  bade  the 
Sowar  drag  him  out  of  the  wieUe.  The  next  day 
Hope  Grant  sent  for  the  Sowar,  warmly  praised  his 
gallant  conduct,  and  offered  him  a  reward  in  money. 
The    brave    fellow    drew    himself    up    with  dignity. 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       285 

salaamed,    and    said,    "  No,    Saliib,    I   will   take   no 
mone}^" 

Seaton  describes  how,  during  that  wdld  night  com- 
bat, they  watched,  from  the  Ridge  above,  the  flashes 
of  the  guns,  rending  the  gloom  with  darting  points 
of  flame,  and  listened  to  the  shouts,  the  clash  of 
weapons,  the  crackle  of  the  musketry  that  marked 
the  progress  of  the  fight.  Presently  there  came  a 
sudden  glare,  then  a  roar  that  for  a  moment  drowned 
all  other  sounds.  One  of  the  British  limbers  had 
blown  up.  The  fight  was  going  badly.  Then,  out 
of  the  darkness,  came  the  cry  of  a  human  voice, 
"  Where  is  the  General  ? "  It  was  an  ofiicer  askinor 
reinforcements,  and  three  companies  of  the  ist 
Fusileers,  who  were  standing  hard  by,  silent  and 
invisible  in  the  dusk,  were  sent  down  to  the  fight. 
They  moved  forward  at  the  curt  word  of  com- 
mand :  presently  the  rolling  crash  of  their  volleys 
was  heard ;  a  line  of  red,  dancing  points  of  fire 
through  the  darkness  marked  their  progress,  and 
the  guns  were  saved ! 

June  23  was  the  centenary  of  Plasscy,  and  a  pre- 
diction, widely  spread  amongst  the  Sepoys,  announced 
that  on  that  day  the  raj  of  the  British  was  to  end. 
As  it  happened,  that  particular  day  was  also  a  great 
religious  festival  for  the  Hindus,  whilst  it  was  the 
day  of  the  new  moon,  and  so  was  held  by  Moham- 
medans as  a  fortunate  day.  Accordingly  an  attack 
of  great  fury,  and  maintained  for  eight  long  hours. 


2  86         THE    TALE    OF   THE    GREAT   MUTINY 

was  made  on   the   British  rio^ht.      Some   reinforce-       i 

I 
ments,  amounting  to   850  men,  were  on  the   22ncl       j 

within  twenty  miles  of  Delhi,  and  a  staff'  officer  was 
despatched   to  hurry  them  on ;    and  they  actually 
reached  the  Ridge  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  final 
effort  which  drove  back  the  enemy.      Roberts  says 
that  "  no  men  could  have  fought  better  than  did  the      ! 
Sepoys.      They  charged  the  Rifles,  the  Guides,  and      ' 
the  Ghoorkas  acfain  and  asfain."     But  nothing^  could      i 
shake  the  cool  and  obstinate — the  almost  scornful —      i 
valour  of  the  British. 

Every  available  man  in  the  camp  was  at  the  front, 
and  when  the  2nd  Fusileers  and  the  4th  Sikhs,  who      ; 
formed  the  approaching  reinforcement,  came  press- 
ing on  with  eager  speed  to  the  crest  of  the  Ridge, 
over  which  the  battle-smoke  was  drifting  in  dense 
white  clouds,  they  were  at  once  sent  into  the  fight, 
and  the  enemy  was  finally  driven  back  with  a  loss 
of  over   1600  men.      It  is  not  easy  to  picture  the 
exhaustion  of  the  British  at  the  close  of  a  tight  so 
stern  and  prolonged.      "  When  I  arrived  at  Hindu 
Rao's,"  wrote  an  eye-witness,  "  I  found  every  one  ex- 
hausted.     There  were  the    ist  Fusileers  and  some     I 
Rifles  all  done  up.     I  went  on  to  the  new  advanced 
battery ;   it  was  crowded  with  worn-out  men.     The     ' 
artillerymen,  likewise  done  up,   had   ceased   firing ; 
another  party  of  Rifles  in  a  similar  state  in  another     ■ 
position.      120  men  of  the  2nd  Fusileers,  who  had     j 
marched  twenty-three  miles  that  morning  and  had     ] 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD      287 

had  no  breakfast,  were  lying  down  exhausted.  Three 
weak  companies  of  Ghoorkas  were  out  as  skirmishers ; 
but  they,  too,  were  exhausted,  and  the  remainder  were 
resting  under  a  rock.  The  heat  was  terrific,  and  the 
thermometer  must  have  been  at  least  140  degrees, 
with  a  hot  wind  blowing,  and  a  frightful  glare."  Of 
ten  officers  in  the  2nd  Fusileers  five  were  struck 
down  by  coup  de  soleil. 

The  next  day  Neville  Chamberlain,  Lawrence's 
favourite  officer,  rode  into  the  camp,  and  assumed 
the  post  of  adjutant-general. 

On  July  3  Baird  Smith  reached  the  Ridge,  and 
took  charge  of  the  engineering  operations  of  the 
siege.  On  July  5  Sir  Henry  Barnard  died,  killed 
by  the  burden  of  a  task  too  great  for  him,  and  Reed 
assumed  command.  He  held  it  for  less  than  ten 
days,  and  then  passed  it  over  to  Archdale  Wilson, 
who  had  shared  in  the  discredit  of  Meerut,  and  who, 
though  a  brave  man,  had  scanty  gifts  of  leadership. 

Twice  over  during  those  days  of  fierce  and  pro- 
longed battle  a  time  had  been  fixed  for  assaulting 
the  city,  and  twice  the  plan  had  been  spoiled  by  an 
earlier  counter-attack  of  the  enemy.  Baird  Smith, 
on  his  arrival,  approved  of  the  scheme  for  an  assault, 
and  urged  it  on  Reed,  who  hesitated  over  it  during 
the  brief  period  of  his  command,  and  then  handed 
it  over  as  a  perplexing  legacy  to  his  successor  Wilson. 
The  proposal  to  leap  on  Delhi  was  finally  abandoned; 
but  Baird  Smith,  the  coolest  brain  employed  in  the 


288    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GEE  AT  MUTINY 

siege,  recorded  long  afterwards  his  deliberate  judg- 
ment that  "  if  we  had  assaulted  any  time  between 
the  4th  and  14th  of  July  we  should  have  carried  the 
place." 

On  July  9,  an  attack  of  great  strength,  and  marked 
by  great  daring,  was  made  by  the  enemy,  and  was 
almost  lifted  into  success  by  the  disloyalty  of  a 
detachment  of  the  9th  Irregular  Cavalry.  They 
were  on  outpost  duty,  watching  the  trunk  road. 
They  allowed  the  enemy  to  approach  the  British 
position  without  giving  warning,  and  when  Hills, 
who  commanded  two  guns  in  front  of  the  General's 
mound,  ran  out  of  his  tent  and  leaped  on  his  horse, 
he  found  a  troop  of  Carabineers  in  broken  flight, 
sweeping  past  him,  and  the  enemy  almost  on  his 
guns.  He  shouted  "  Action  front ! "  then,  to  give 
his  gunners  a  chance  of  firing,  rode  single-handed 
into  the  enemy's  squadrons,  a  solitary  swordsman 
charging  a  regiment ! 

Hills  actually  cut  down  the  leading  man,  and 
wounded  the  second ;  then  two  troopers  charging 
him  at  once,  he  was  rolled  over,  man  and  horse, 
and  the  troops  swept  over  him.  Hills  struggled, 
bruised  and  half-dazed,  to  his  feet,  picked  up  his 
sword,  and  was  at  once  attacked  by  two  of  the 
rebel  cavalry  and  a  foot  soldier.  Hills  coolly  shot 
the  first  horseman  riding  down  upon  him,  then 
catching  the  lance  of  the  second  in  his  left  hand, 
thrust  him  through  the  body  with  his  sword.     He 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       289 

was  instantly  attacked  by  the  third  enemy,  and 
his  sword  ^vrenched  from  him.  Hills,  on  this,  fell 
back  upon  first  principles,  and  struck  his  opponent 
in  the  face  repeatedly  with  his  fist.  But  he  was 
by  this  time  himself  exhausted,  and  fell.  Then, 
exactly  as  his  antagonist  lifted  his  sword  to  slay 
him,  Tombs,  who  had  cut  his  way  through  the 
enemy,  and  was  coming  up  at  a  gallop  to  help 
his  comrade,  with  a  clever  pistol-shot  from  a  dis- 
tance of  thirty  paces  killed  the  Sepoy.  It  was  a 
Homeric  combat,  and  both  Tombs  and  Hills  re- 
ceived the  Victoria  Cross. 

The  enemy  meanwhile  had  galloped  past  the  guns, 
eager  to  reach  the  native  artillery,  which  they  hoped 
would  ride  off  with  them.  The  9th  Lancers,  how- 
ever, had  turned  out  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  and  they, 
riding  fiercely  home,  drove  off  the  enemy. 

It  is  always  interesting  to  listen  to  the  story  of 
a  gallant  deed,  as  told  by  the  doer  himself.  The 
reckless  valour  which  Lieutenant  Hills  showed  in 
charging,  single-handed,  a  column  of  rebel  cavalry, 
in  order  to  secure  for  his  gunners  a  chance  of 
opening  fire,  can  hardly  be  described  by  a  remote 
historian.  But  Hills  has  told  the  story  of  his  own 
deed,  and  an  extract  from  his  tale,  at  least,  is  worth 
giving : — 

I  thought  that  by  charging  them  I  might  make  a  com- 
motion, and  give  the  gun  time  to  load,  so  in  I  went  at  the 
front  rank,   cut   down  the  fii'st  fellow,    slashed   the   next 

T 


290   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

across  the  face  as  hard  as  I  could,  when  two  Sowars 
charged  me.  Both  their  horses  crashed  into  mine  at  the 
same  moment,  and,  of  course,  both  horse  and  myself  were 
sent  flying.  We  went  down  at  such  a  pace  that  I  escaped 
the  cuts  made  at  me,  one  of  them  giving  my  jacket  an 
awful  slice  just  below  the  left  arm — it  only,  however,  cut 
the  jacket.  Well,  I  lay  quite  snug  until  all  had  passed 
over  me,  and  then  got  up  and  looked  about  for  my  sword. 
I  found  it  full  ten  yards  off.  I  had  hardly  got  hold  of  it 
when  three  fellows  returned,  two  on  horseback.  The  first 
I  wounded,  and  dropped  him  from  his  horse.  The  second 
charged  me  with  a  lance.  I  put  it  aside,  and  caught  him 
an  awful  gash  on  the  head  and  face.  I  thought  I  had 
killed  him.  Apparently  he  must  have  clung  to  his  horse, 
for  he  disappeared.  The  wounded  man  then  came  up,  but 
got  his  skull  split.  Then  came  on  the  third  man — a 
young,  active  fellow.  I  found  myself  getting  very  weak 
from  want  of  breath,  the  fall  from  my  horse  having 
pumped  me  considerably,  and  my  cloak,  somehow  or  other, 
had  got  tightly  fixed  round  my  throat,  and  was  actually 
choking  me.  I  went,  however,  at  the  fellow  and  cut  him 
on  the  shoulder,  but  some  "  kupra "  (cloth)  on  it  appa- 
rently turned  the  blow.  He  managed  to  seize  the  hilt  of 
my  sword,  and  twisted  it  out  of  my  hand,  and  then  we 
had  a  hand-to-hand  fight,  I  punching  his  head  with  my 
fists,  and  he  trying  to  cut  me,  but  I  was  too  close  to  him. 
Somehow  or  other  I  fell,  and  then  was  the  time,  fortu- 
nately for  me,  that  Tombs  came  up  and  shot  the  fellow. 
I  was  so  choked  by  my  cloak  that  move  I  could  not  until 
I  got  it  loosened.  By-the-bye,  I  forgot  to  say  that  I  fired 
at  this  chap  twice,  but  the  pistol  snapped,  and  I  was  so 
enraged  I  drove  it  at  the  fellow's  head,  missing  him, 
however. 


DELHI:    HOW   THE   RIDGE   WAS   HELD      29 1 

The  Sepoys  had  planted  a  battery  of  guns  at  a 
point  in  their  front  called  Ludlow  Castle,  and  main- 
tained from  it  a  constant  fire  on  Metcalfe  House. 
Their  skirmishers,  too,  crept  up  with  great  auda- 
city, and  maintained  a  ceaseless  fire  on  the  British 
pickets.  It  was  necessary  to  silence  this  battery, 
and  early  in  the  morning  of  August  12,  without 
call  of  bugle  or  roll  of  drum,  a  force  of  British, 
Sikhs,  and  Ghoorkas,  with  a  handful  of  cavalry, 
stole  down  the  slope  of  the  Eidge  in  order  to 
carry  the  offending  guns.  The  order  was  given  for 
profoundest  silence,  and  almost  like  a  procession 
of  shadows  the  little  column  crept  over  the  Ridge 
through  the  gloom,  and  disappeared  in  the  midst 
of  the  low-lying  ground  on  its  way  to  the  rebel 
guns. 

Undetected  in  the  sheltering  blackness,  the  column 
reached  the  sleeping  battery.  A  startled  Sepoy,  Avho 
caught  through  the  haze  and  shadow  a  sudden 
glimpse  of  stern  faces  and  the  gleam  of  bayonets, 
gave  a  hasty  challenge.  It  was  answered  by  a  volley 
which  ran  like  a  streak  of  jagged  flame  through 
the  darkness,  and  with  a  rush  the  British — their 
officers  gallantly  leading,  and  Sikh  and  Ghoorka 
trying  to  outrace  their  English  comrades — swept 
on  to  the  battery.  The  Sepoys  succeeded  in  dis- 
charging two  guns  on  their  assailants  ;  but  Lord 
Roberts  records  that  the  discharge  of  the  third 
gun  was  prevented  by  a  gallant  Irish  soldier  named 


292    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Reegan.  He  leaped  with  levelled  bayonet  over  the 
earthwork,  and  charged  the  artilleryman,  who  was 
in  the  very  act  of  thrusting  his  port-fire  on  to  the 
powder  in  the  touch-hole  of  the  gun.  Reegan  was 
struck  at  on  every  side,  but  nothing  stopped  him, 
and  the  fierce  lunge  of  his  bayonet  slew  the  artil- 
leryman and  prevented  the  discharge  of  the  gun. 
Captain  Greville,  followed  by  two  or  three  men, 
flung  himself  on  another  gun,  and  slew  or  drove 
off  its  gunners. 

Hodson  characteristically  says,  "  It  was  a  very 
comfortable  little  affair  ! "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it 
was,  for  a  dozen  fierce  minutes,  a  deadly  hand- 
to-hand  combat.  "  The  rebel  artillerymen,"  says 
Roberts,  "  stood  to  their  guns  splendidly,  and  fought 
till  they  were  all  killed."  The  rebels,  too,  were  in 
great  force,  and  as  the  passionate  melee  swayed  to 
and  fro,  and  the  muskets  crackled  fiercely,  and  angry 
thrust  of  bayonet  was  answered  by  desperate  stroke 
of  tulwar,  the  slaughter  was  great.  Some  250  Sepoys 
were  slain,  while  the  British  only  lost  one  officer  and 
nineteen  men,  though  nearly  a  hundred  more  were 
wounded.  But  the  battery  was  destroyed,  and  four 
guns  brought  back  in  triumph  to  the  camp. 

The  return  of  the  force  was  a  scene  of  mad  excite- 
ment. A  wounded  officer  sat  astride  one  gun,  waving 
his  hand  in  triumph.  A  soldier,  with  musket  and 
bayonet  fixed,  bestrode  each  horse,  and  dozens  of 
shouting  infantrymen — many  with  wounds  and  torn 


DELHI  :    HOW   THE    RIDGE   WAS   HELD      293 

uniform,  and  all  with  smoke-blackened  faces — clung", 
madly  cheering,  to  the  captured  pieces. 

On  August  7  there  rode  into  the  British  camp 
perhaps  the  most  famous  and  daring  soldier  in  all 
India,  the  man  with  whose  memory  the  siege  of 
Delhi,  and  the  great  assault  which  ended  the  siege, 
are  for  ever  associated — John  Nicholson. 

Nicholson  was  of  Irish  birth,  the  son  of  a  Dublin 
physician,  who  had  seen  twenty  years'  service  in 
India — service  brilliant  and  varied  beyond  even  what 
is  common  in  that  field  of  great  deeds.  There  is  no 
space  here  to  tell  the  story  of  Nicholson's  career,  but 
as  he  rode  into  the  British  camp  that  August  morn- 
ing, he  was  beyond  all  question  the  most  picturesque 
and  striking  figure  in  India.  He  was  a  man  of  splen- 
did physique,  and  is  said  to  have  borne  an  almost  be- 
wildering resemblance  to  the  Czar  Nicholas.  He  was 
six  feet  two  in  height,  strongly  built,  with  a  flowing 
dark-coloured  beard,  colourless  face,  grey  eyes,  with 
dark  pupils,  in  whose  depths,  when  he  was  aroused, 
a  point  of  steady  light,  as  of  steel  or  of  flame,  would 
kindle.  Few  men,  indeed,  could  sustain  the  piercing 
look  of  those  lustrous,  menacing  eyes.  His  voice  had 
a  curious  depth  in  it ;  his  whole  bearing  a  singular 
air  of  command  and  strength — an  impression  which 
his  habit  of  rare  and  curt  speech  intensified.  "  He 
was  a  man,"  says  one  who  kncAv  him  well,  "  cast  in  a 
giant  mould,  with  massive  chest  and  powerful  limbs, 
and  an  expression,  ardent  and  commanding,  with  a 


2  94    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

clash  of  roughness ;  features  of  stern  beauty,  a  long 
black  beard,  and  sonorous  voice.  His  imperial  air 
never  left  him."  "  Nicholson,"  says  Lord  Roberts, 
"  impressed  me  more  profoundly  than  any  man  I  had 
ever  met  before,  or  have  ever  met  since." 

Nicholson,  like  the  Lawrences,  like  Havelock,  and 
Herbert  Edwardes,  and  many  of  the  Indian  heroes  of 
that  generation,  was  a  man  of  rough  but  sincere 
piety,  and  this  did  not  weaken  his  soldiership — it 
rather  gave  a  new  loftiness  to  its  ideals  and  a  steadier 
pulse  to  its  courage.  "  If  there  is  a  desperate  deed 
to  be  done  in  India,"  Herbert  Edwardes  told  Lord 
Canning,  "  John  Nicholson  is  the  man  to  do  it " ;  and 
exactly  that  impression  and  conviction  Nicholson 
kindled  in  everybody  about  him. 

"He  had,"  says  Mrs.  Steel,  "the  great  gift.  He 
could  put  his  own  heart  into  a  whole  camp,  and 
make  it  believe  it  was  its  own."  Such  a  masterful 
will  and  personality  as  that  of  Nicholson  took  abso- 
lutely captive  the  imagination  of  the  wild,  irregular 
soldiery  of  which  he  was  the  leader. 

What  was  Nicholson's  fighting  quality,  indeed,  may 
be  judged,  say,  from  the  fashion  in  which  he  smashed 
up  the  mutinous  Sepoys  at  Mardan  (as  told  in 
Trotter's  "  Life  "  of  him),  and  chased  them  mile  after 
mile  towards  the  hills  of  Swat,  Nicholson  leading  the 
pursuit  on  his  huge  grey  charger,  "his  great  sword 
felling  a  Sepoy  at  every  stroke ! "  His  faculty  for 
strategy,  and  for  swift,  sustained  movement  is,  again, 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       295 

told  by  the  manner  in  which  he  intercepted  and  de- 
stroyed the  Sealkote  mutineers  at  the  fords  of  the 
Ravi  on  their  way  to  Delhi.  The  mutineers  were 
two  days'  march  ahead  of  him,  and  Nicholson  made  a 
forced  march  of  forty-four  miles  in  a  single  day,  and 
under  a  July  sun  in  India,  to  get  within  stroke  of 
them.  Nicholson's  little  force  started  at  9  p.m.  on 
July  10,  and  marched  twenty-six  miles  without  a 
break ;  after  a  halt  of  two  hours  they  started  on  their 
second  stage  of  eighteen  miles  at  10  a.m.  During 
the  hottest  hour  of  the  afternoon  the  force  camped 
in  a  grove  of  trees,  and  the  men  fell,  exhausted,  into 
instant  slumber. 

Presently  an  officer,  awakening,  looked  round  for 
his  general.  "He  saw  Nicholson,"  says  Trotter,  " in 
the  middle  of  the  hot,  dusty  road,  sitting  bolt  upright 
on  his  horse  in  the  full  glare  of  that  July  sun,  waiting 
like  a  sentinel  turned  to  stone  for  the  moment  when 
his  men  should  resume  their  march  ! "  They  might 
take  shelter  from  the  heat,  but  he  scorned  it.  A 
march  so  swift  and  fierce  was  followed  by  an  attack 
equally  vehement,  Nicholson  leading  the  rush  on  the 
enemy's  guns  in  person,  and  with  his  own  sword 
cutting  literally  in  two  a  rebel  gunner  in  the  very  act  of 
putting  his  linstock  to  the  touch-hole  of  his  cannon. 

The  worship  of  force  is  natural  to  the  Eastern 
mind ;  and,  in  1 848,  when  Nicholson  was  scouring  the 
country  between  the  Attock  and  the  Jhelum,  making 
incredible  marches,  and  shattering  with  almost  in- 


296    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

credible  valour  whole  armies  with  a  mere  handful  of 
troops,  the  mingled  admiration  and  dread  of  the  native 
mind  rose  to  the  pieties  of  a  religion.  "  To  this  day," 
a  border  chief  told  Younghusband,  twelve  years  after 
Nicholson  was  dead,  "our  women  at  night  wake 
trembling,  and  saying  they  hear  the  tramp  of  Nikal- 
sain's  war-horse  1 "  A  brotherhood  of  Fakirs  renounced 
all  other  creeds,  and  devoted  themselves  to  the  wor- 
ship of  "  Nikkul-Seyn."  They  would  lie  in  wait  for 
Nicholson,  and  fall  at  his  feet  with  votive  offerings. 

Nicholson  tried  to  cure  their  inconvenient  piety  by 
a  vigorous  application  of  the  whip,  and  flogged  them 
soundly  on  every  opportunity.  But  this,  to  the  Fakir 
mind,  supplied  only  another  proof  of  the  great  Irish- 
man's divinity ;  and,  to  quote  Herbert  Edwardes,  "  the 
sect  of  Nikkul-Seynees  remained  as  devoted  as  ever. 
Sang  wis  niartyriiin  est  semen  Ecclesim !  On  one  oc- 
casion, after  a  satisfactory  whipping,  Nicholson  re- 
leased his  devotees  on  the  condition  that  they  would 
transfer  their  adoration  to  John  Becher ;  but  as  soon 
as  they  attained  their  freedom  they  resumed  their 
worship  of  the  relentless  Nikkul-Scyn."  The  last  of 
the  sect,  says  Raikes,  dug  his  own  grave,  and  was 
found  dead  in  it  shortly  after  the  news  came  that 
Nicholson  had  fallen  at  Delhi. 

Nicholson's  ardour  had  made  him  outride  the  mov- 
able column  he  was  bringing  up  to  reinforce  the 
besiegers;  but  on  August  14,  with  drums  beating 
and  flags  fiying,  and  welcomed  with  cheers  by  the 


DELHI  :    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD      297 

whole  camp,  that  gallant  little  force  marched  in.  It 
consisted  of  the  52nd,  680  strong,  a  wing  of  the  6ist, 
the  second  Punjaub  Infantry,  with  some  Beloochees 
and  military  police,  and  a  field  battery. 

Work  for  such  a  force,  and  under  such  a  leader,  was 
quickly  found.  The  siege  train  intended  to  breach 
the  walls  of  Delhi  was  slowly  creeping  along  the  road 
from  the  Punjaub,  and  with  unusual  daring  a  great 
force  of  mutineers  marched  from  Delhi  to  intercept 
this  convoy.  The  movement  was  detected,  and  on 
August  2  5  Nicholson,  with  1 600  infantry,  400  cavalry, 
and  a  battery  of  field  guns,  set  out  to  cut  off  the 
Sepoy  force. 

The  rain  fell  in  ceaseless,  wind-blown  sheets,  as  only 
Indian  rain  can  fall.  The  country  to  be  crossed  was 
mottled  with  swamps.  The  roads  were  mere  threads 
of  liquid  mud,  and  the  march  was  of  incredible  diffi- 
culty. The  enemy  was  overtaken  at  Nujutgurh,  after 
a  sort  of  wading  march  which  lasted  twelve  hours. 
"  No  other  man  in  India,"  wrote  a  good  soldier  after- 
wards, "  would  have  taken  that  column  to  Nujutgurh. 
An  artillery  officer  told  me  that  at  one  time  the  water 
was  over  his  horses'  backs,  and  he  thought  they  could 
not  possibly  get  out  of  their  difficulties.  But  he 
looked  ahead,  and  saw  Nicholson's  great  form  riding 
steadily  on  as  if  nothing  was  the  matter." 

The  rebels,  6000  strong,  held  an  almost  unassailable 
position,  edged  round  with  swamps  and  crossed  in 
front  by  a  deep  and  swift  stream  with  an  unknown 


298    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

ford.  In  the  dusk,  however,  Nicholson  led  his  troops 
across  the  stream.  As  they  came  splashing  up  from 
its  waters  he  halted  them,  and,  with  his  deep,  far- 
reaching  voice,  told  them  to  withhold  their  fire  till 
within  thirty  yards  of  the  enemy.  He  then  led 
them  steadily  on,  at  a  foot-pace,  over  a  low  hill,  and 
through  yet  another  swamp,  while  the  fire  of  the 
enemy  grew  ever  fiercer. 

When  within  twenty  yards  of  the  enemy's  guns, 
Nicholson  gave  the  word  to  charge.  A  swift  volley, 
and  an  almost  swifter  rush,  followed.  The  British  in 
a  moment  were  over  the  enemy's  guns,  Nicholson  still 
leading,  his  gleaming  sword,  as  it  rose  and  fell  in  des- 
perate strokes,  by  this  time  turned  bloody  red.  Gab- 
bett,  of  the  6ist,  ran  straight  at  one  of  the  guns,  and 
his  men,  though  eagerly  following,  could  not  keep 
pace  with  their  light-footed  officer.  He  had  just 
reached  the  gun,  fully  twenty  paces  in  advance  of  his 
men,  when  his  foot  slipped,  he  fell,  and  was  instantly 
bayoneted  by  a  gigantic  Sepoy.  With  a  furious 
shout  —  a  blast  of  wrathful  passion  —  his  panting 
men  came  up,  carried  the  gun,  and  bayoneted  the 
gunners. 

Nicholson  had  the  true  genius  of  a  commander. 
The  moment  he  had  carried  the  guns  he  swung  to 
the  left ;  and  led  his  men  in  a  rush  for  a  bridge  across 
the  canal  in  the  enemy's  rear,  which  formed  their 
only  line  of  retreat  to  Delhi.  An  Indian  force  is 
always  peculiarly  sensitive  to  a  stroke  at  its  line  of 


BRIGADIER -GENERAL    JOHN    NICHOLSON 
From  a  portrait  in  the  East  India  United  Service  Club 


DELHI  :    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       299 

retreat,  and  the  moment  Nicholson's  strategy  was 
understood  the  Sepoy  army  resolved  itself  into  a 
flying  mob,  eager  only  to  outrun  the  British  in  the 
race  for  the  bridge.  Nicholson  captured  thirteen 
guns,  killed  or  wounded  800  of  the  enemy,  and  drove 
the  rest,  a  mob  of  terrified  fugitives,  to  Delhi,  his 
own  casualties  amounting  to  sixty. 

His  men  had  outmarched  their  supplies,  and  they 
had  at  once  to  retrace  their  steps  to  Delhi.  They 
had  marched  thirty-five  miles,  under  furious  rains 
and  across  muddy  roads,  and  had  beaten  a  force  three 
times  stronger  than  their  own,  holding  an  almost  im- 
pregnable position,  and  had  done  it  all  in  less  than 
forty  hours,  during  twenty-four  of  which  they  had 
been  without  food.  It  was  a  great  feat,  and  as  the 
footsore,  mud-splashed  soldiers  came  limping  into 
the  camp  all  the  regimental  bands  on  the  Ridge 
turned  out  to  play  them  in. 

The  few  hours  preceding  Nicholson's  arrival  at  the 
Ridge  were  the  darkest  hours  of  the  siege,  and  some 
at  least  of  the  British  leaders  were  hesitating  whether 
the  attempt  to  carry  the  city  ought  not  to  be  aban- 
doned. The  circumstances,  indeed,  were  such  as 
might  well  strain  human  fortitude  to  the  breaking 
point.  The  British  force  of  all  arms,  native  and 
European,  was  under  6000.  Its  scanty  and  light 
artillery  commanded  only  two  out  of  the  seven  gates 
of  Delhi.  The  siege,  in  fact,  was,  as  one  writer  puts 
it,  "  a  struggle  between  a  mere  handful  of  men  on  an 


300   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

open  ridge  and  a  host  behind  massive  and  wcll- 
fortitied  walls,"  Cholera  was  raging  among  the 
British.  The  52nd  on  August  14  marched  into  camp 
680  strong  with  only  six  sick.  On  September  14 — 
only  four  weeks  later,  that  is — the  effectives  of  the 
regiment  were  only  240  of  all  ranks.  Nearly  two 
men  out  of  every  three  had  gone  down ! 

There  was  treachery,  too,  in  Wilson's  scanty  force. 
Their  plans  were  betrayed  to  the  enemy.  The 
slaughter  amongst  the  British  officers  in  the  native 
regiments  was  such  as  could  only  be  explained  by 
the  fact  that  they  were  shot  down  by  their  own  men 
from  behind,  rather  than  by  their  open  foes  in  the 
front.  The  one  good  service  General  Reed  did 
during:  his  brief  interval  of  command  was  to  dismiss 
from  the  camp  some  suspected  regiments. 

Archdale  Wilson's  nerve,  like  that  of  Barnard 
and  of  Reed,  his  predecessors,  was  shaken  by  the 
terrific  strain  of  the  siege,  and  he  contemplated 
abandoning  it.  "  Wilson's  head  is  going,"  wrote 
Nicholson  to  Lawrence  on  September  7 ;  "he  says 
so  himself,  and  it  is  quite  evident  he  speaks  the 
truth."  It  Avas  due  chiefly  to  John  Lawrence's 
clear  judgment  and  iron  strength  of  will  that  a 
step  so  evil  and  perilous  was  not  taken.  Law- 
rence had  flung  his  last  coin,  his  last  cartridge,  his 
last  man  into  the  siege,  and  he  warned  Wilson 
that  the  whole  fate  of  the  British  in  India  de- 
pended on  an  immediate  assault.     *'  Every  day,"  he 


DELHI:    HOW    THE    KIDGE    WAS    HELD      30I 

wrote,  "disaffection  and  mutiny  spread.  Every  day 
adds  to  the  danger  of  the  native  princes  taking  part 
against  us."  The  loyalty  of  the  Sikhs  themselves 
was  strained  to  the  breaking  point.  Had  the  British 
flag  fallen  back  from  the  Ridge,  not  merely  would 
Delhi  have  poured  out  its  armed  host,  50,000  strong 
but  every  village  in  the  north-west  would  have  risen, 
and  the  tragedy  of  the  Khyber  Pass  might  have  been 
repeated,  on  a  vaster  scale,  upon  the  plains  of  Hin- 
dustan. The  banks  of  the  Jumna  might  have  seen 
such  a  spectacle  as  Cabul  once  witnessed. 

But  there  were  brave  men  on  the  Ridge  itself, 
trained  in  Lawrence's  school,  and  in  whom  the  spirit 
of  John  Lawrence  burned  with  clear  and  steady 
flame.  Baird  Smith  and  Neville  Chamberlain, 
Norman  and  Nicholson,  and  many  another,  knew 
that  the  fortunes  and  honour  of  England  hung  on 
the  capture  of  Delhi.  Lord  Roberts  tells  a  curious 
and  wild  story  that  shows  what  was  Nicholson's 
temper  at  this  crisis  : — 

I  was  sitting  in  Nicholson's  tent  before  he  set  out  to 
attend  the  councik  He  had  been  talking  to  me  in  confi- 
dential terms  of  personal  matters,  and  ended  by  telling  me 
of  his  intention  to  take  a  very  unusual  step  should  the 
council  fail  to  arrive  at  any  fixed  determination  regarding 
the  assault.  "Delhi  must  be  taken,"  he  said,  "and  it  is 
absolutely  essential  that  this  should  be  done  at  once  ;  and, 
if  Wilson  hesitates  longer,  I  intend  to  propose  at  to-day's 
meeting  that  he  should  be  superseded."  I  was  greatly 
startled,  and  ventured  to  remark  that,  as  Chamberlain  was 


302    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

liors  de  comhat  from  his  wound,  Wilson's  removal  would 
leave  him  (Nicholson)  senior  officer  with  the  force.  He 
smiled  as  he  answered,  "  I  have  not  overlooked  that  fact. 
I  shall  make  it  perfectly  clear  that,  under  the  circum- 
stances, I  could  not  possibly  accept  the  command  myself, 
and  I  shall  propose  that  it  be  given  to  Campbell  of  the 
52nd.  I  am  prepared  to  serve  under  him  for  the  time 
being,  so  no  one  can  ever  accuse  me  of  being  influenced 
by  personal  motives." 

Roberts  puts  on  record  his  ''confident  belief" 
tbat  Nicholson  would  have  carried  out  this  daring 
scheme,  and  he  adds  that,  in  his  deliberate  judg- 
ment, Nicholson  was  right.  Discipline  in  a  crisis 
so  stern  counts  for  less  than  the  public  honour  and 
the  national  safety. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  on  a  still  earlier  date, 
September  1 1 — Nicholson  had  written  to  Lawrence 
telling  him  Wilson  was  talking  of  withdrawing  the 
guns  and  giving  up  the  siege.  "  Had  Wilson  carried 
out  his  threat  of  withdrawing  the  guns,"  adds 
Nicholson,  "  I  was  quite  prepared  to  appeal  to  the 
army  to  set  him  aside,  and  elect  a  successor.  I  have 
seen  lots  of  useless  generals  in  my  day ;  but  such  an 
ignorant,  croaking  obstructive  as  he  is,  I  have  never 
hitherto  met  with  ! " 

Fortunately,  Wilson  found  a  tonic  in  the  spirit  of 
the  men  who  sat  round  his  council-table.  "The 
force,"  he  wrote  to  the  Chief  Commissioner,  "will 
die  at  their  post."  Reinforcements  came  creeping 
in,  till  the  forces  on  the  Ridge  rose  to  8748  men,  of 


DELHI  :    HOW    THE    RIDGE    WAS    HELD       303 

whom,  however,  less  than  half  were  British.  The 
battering-train  from  Umballa,  too,  safely  reached 
the  camp.  It  consisted  of  six  24-pounders,  eight 
i8-pounders,  and  four  8-inch  howitzers,  with  1000 
rounds  of  ammunition  per  piece.  The  huge  convoy, 
with  its  tumbrils  and  ammunition-carts,  sprawled 
over  thirteen  miles  of  road,  and  formed  an  amaz- 
ing evidence  of  the  energy  and  resources  of  John 
Lawrence. 

Now  at  last  the  siege  really  began.  Ground  was 
broken  for  the  new  batteries  on  September  7,  at  a 
distance  of  700  yards  from  the  walls,  and  each 
battery,  as  it  was  armed,  broke  into  wrathful  thunder 
on  the  city.  Each  succeeding  battery,  too,  was 
pushed  up  closer  to  the  enemy's  defences.  Thus 
Major  Scott's  battery  was  pushed  up  to  within  180 
yards  of  the  wall,  and  the  heavy  guns  to  arm  it  had 
to  be  dragged  up  under  angry  blasts  of  musketry  fire. 
No  fewer  than  thirty-nine  men  in  this  single  battery 
were  struck  down  during  the  first  night  of  its  con- 
struction !  A  section  of  No.  i  Battery  took  fire 
under  the  constant  flash  of  its  own  guns,  and,  as 
the  dancing  flanies  rose  up  from  it,  the  enemy 
turned  on  the  burning  spot  every  gun  that  could 
be  brought  to  bear.  The  onl}^  way  to  quench  the 
fire  was  to  take  sand-bags  to  the  top  of  the  battery, 
cut  them  open,  and  smother  the  fire  with  streams 
of  sand. 

A   Ghoorka    officer    named    Lockhart    called    for 


304    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

volunteers,  and  leaped  upon  the  top  of  the  battery, 
exposed,  without  shelter,  to  a  storm  of  cannon  balls 
and  musket  bullets.  Half-a-dozen  Ghoorkas  in- 
stantly followed  him.  Four  out  of  the  seven  men — 
including  Lockhart  himself — were  shot  down,  but 
the  fire  was  quenched. 

The  fire  of  the  batteries  was  maintained  with 
amazing  energy  and  daring  until  September  13. 
Colonel  Brind,  for  example,  records  that  he  never 
took  off  his  clothes  or  left  his  c^uns  from  the  mo- 
ment  they  opened  on  the  8th  to  the  14th  inst. 


CHAPTER  XI 

DELHI  :     THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY 

ON  September  13  four  engineer  officers — Medley 
and  Lang,  Greathed  and  Home — undertook 
the  perilous  task  of  examining  the  breaches  in  the 
enemy's  defences.  Medley  and  Lang  were  detailed 
to  examine  the  Cashmere  Bastion,  and  Lang  asked 
to  be  allowed  to  go  Avhile  it  was  yet  daylight. 
Leave  was  granted ;  and,  with  an  escort  of  four 
men  of  the  60th,  he  crept  to  the  edge  of  the  cover 
on  the  British  front,  then  coolly  ran  up  the  glacis 
and  sat  do^vn  upon  the  top  of  the  counterscarp, 
under  a  heavy  fire,  studying  the  ditch  and  the  two 
breaches  beyond,  and  returned  unhurt,  to  pronounce 
the  breach  practicable !  It  was  necessary,  however, 
to  ascertain  the  depth  of  the  ditch,  and  Lang  and 
Medley  were  sent  again,  after  nightfall,  on  this 
business. 

Medley  himself  may  tell  the  story  of  the  daring 
adventure : — 

It  was  a  bright,  starhght  night,  with  no  moon,  and  the 
roar  of  the  batteries,  and  clear,  abrupt  reports  of  the 
shells  from  the  mortars,  alone  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
scene ;  while  the  flashes  of  the  rockets,  carcasses,  and  fire- 

305  u 


3o6    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

balls  lighting  up  the  air  ever  and  anon  made  a  really 
beautiful  spectacle.  The  ghurees  struck  ten,  and,  as  pre- 
concerted, the  fire  of  the  batteries  suddenly  ceased.  Our 
party  was  in  readiness.  We  drew  swords,  felt  that  our 
revolvers  were  ready  to  hand,  and,  leaving  the  shelter  of 
the  picquet,  such  as  it  was,  advanced  stealthily  into  the 
enemy's  country.  .  .  .  With  the  six  men  who  were  to 
accompany  us,  Lang  and  I  emerged  into  the  open,  and 
pushed  straight  for  the  breach.  In  five  minutes  we  found 
ourselves  on  the  edge  of  the  ditch,  the  dark  mass  of  the 
Cashmere  Bastion  immediately  on  the  other  side^  and  the 
breach  distinctly  discernible.  Not  a  soul  was  in  sight. 
The  counterscarp  was  sixteen  feet  deep,  and  steep.  Lang 
slid  down  first,  I  passed  down  the  ladder,  and,  taking  two 
men  out  of  the  six,  descended  after  him,  leaving  the  other 
four  on  the  cope  to  cover  our  i-etreat. 

Two  minutes  more  and  we  should  have  been  at  the  top 
of  the  breach.  But,  quiet  as  we  had  been,  the  enemy 
were  on  the  watch,  and  we  heard  several  men  running 
from  the  left  towards  the  breach.  We  therefore  re- 
ascended,  though  with  some  difficulty,  and,  throwing  our- 
selves down  on  the  grass,  waited  in  silence  for  what  was 
to  happen.  A  number  of  figures  immediately  appeared  on 
the  top  of  the  breach,  their  forms  clearly  discernible 
against  the  bright  sky,  and  not  twenty  yards  distant. 
We,  however,  were  in  the  deep  shade,  and  they  could 
not,  apparently,  see  us.  They  conversed  in  a  low  tone, 
and  presently  we  heard  the  ring  of  their  steel  ramrods 
as  they  loaded.  We  waited  quietly,  hoping  that  they 
would  go  away,  when  another  attempt  might  be  made. 
Meanwhile,  we  could  see  that  the  breach  was  a  good  one, 
the  slope  being  easy  of  ascent,  and  that  there  were  no 
guns  on  the  flank.     We  knew  by   experience,  too,  that 


DELHI  :    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  307 

the  ditch  was  easy  of  descent.  After  waiting,  therefore, 
some  minutes  longer,  I  gave  the  signal.  The  whole  of 
us  jumped  up  at  once  and  ran  back  towards  our  own 
ground.  Directly  we  were  discovered  a  volley  was  sent 
after  us.  The  balls  came  whizzing  about  our  ears,  but  no 
one  was  touched. 

The  other  engineers  performed  their  task  with 
equal  coolness  and  daring,  and  at  midnight  all  the 
breaches  were  reported  practicable,  and  it  was 
resolved  that  the  assault  should  be  made  in  the 
morning. 

Nicholson,  at  the  head  of  a  column  of  1000  men — 
of  whom  300  belonged  to  the  75th — was  to  carry 
the  breach  near  the  Cashmere  Bastion.  The  second 
column,  under  Brigadier  Jones,  composed  of  the  8  th 
the  2nd  Bengal  Fusileers,  and  the  4th  Sikhs — 850 
in  all — was  to  assail  the  gap  near  the  Water  Bastion. 
The  third  column,  950  strong,  under  Campbell,  of 
the  52nd,  was  to  blow  in  the  Cashmere  Gate  and 
fight  its  way  into  the  city.  The  fourth  column, 
under  Major  Reid,  made  up  of  the  Guides'  Infantry, 
Ghoorkas,  and  men  from  the  picquets,  was  to  break 
in  an  entrance  by  the  Lahore  Gate.  A  reserve 
column,  1000  strong,  under  Brigadier  Longfield, 
of  the  8th,  was  to  feed  the  attack  at  any  point 
where  help  was  required.  Five  thousand  men  were 
thus  to  fling  themselves  on  a  great  city  held  by 
50,000 ! 

It  was   three   o'clock   in   the  morning,  the  stars 


308   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

still  burning  in  the  measureless  depths  of  the  Indian 
sky,  when  the  columns  stood  in  grim  silence  ready 
for  the  assault.  The  chaplain  of  the  forces  records 
that  in  not  a  few  of  the  tents  the  service  for 
the  day  was  read  before  the  men  went  out  into 
the  darkness  to  join  the  columns.  The  lesson  for 
the  day,  as  it  happened,  was  Nahum  iii.,  and  the 
opening  verse  runs,  "  Woe  to  the  bloody  city !  It 
is  full  of  lies  and  robbery.  .  .  .  Behold,  I  am  against 
thee,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts." 

HoAv  do  men  feel  who  gather  at  such  an  hour 
and  for  such  a  deed  ?  Lord  Roberts  quotes  from 
a  brother  officer's  diary  a  curious  little  picture  of 
British  soldiers  preparing  themselves  for  one  of  the 
most  daring  exploits  in  the  history  of  war : — 

We  each  of  us  looked  carefully  to  the  reloading  of  our 
pistols,  filling  of  flasks  and  getting  as  good  protection  as 
possible  for  our  heads,  which  would  be  exposed  so  much 
going  up  the  ladders.  I  wound  two  puggaries  or  turbans 
round  my  old  forage  cap,  with  the  last  letter  from  the 
hills  in  the  top,  and  committed  myself  to  the  care  of 
Providence.  There  was  not  much  sleep  that  night  in  our 
camp.  I  dropped  off  now  and  then,  but  never  for  long, 
and  whenever  I  woke  I  could  see  that  there  was  a  light  in 
more  than  one  of  the  officers'  tents,  and  talking  was  going 
on  in  a  low  tone  amongst  the  men,  the  snapping  of  a  lock 
or  the  springing  of  a  ramrod  sounding  far  in  the  still  air, 
telling  of  preparation  for  the  coming  strife.  A  little  after 
midnight  we  fell  in  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  by  the  light 
of  a  lantern  the  orders  for  the  assault  were  then  read  to 
the  men.     Any  officer  or  man  who  might  be  wounded  was 


DELHI  :   THE    LEAP   ON   THE   CITY  309 

to  be  left  where  he  fell ;  no  one  was  to  step  from  the 
ranks  to  help  him,  as  there  were  no  men  to  spare.  If  the 
assault  were  successful  he  would  be  taken  away  in  the 
doolies,  or  litters,  and  carried  to  the  rear,  or  wherever 
he  could  best  receive  medical  assistance.  If  we  failed, 
wounded  and  sound  should  be  prepared  to  bear  the  worst. 
No  prisoners  were  to  be  made,  as  we  had  no  one  to  guard 
them,  and  care  was  to  be  taken  that  no  women  or  children 
were  injured.  To  this  the  men  answered  at  once  by  "  No 
fear,  su\"  The  officers  now  pledged  their  honour,  on  their 
swords,  to  abide  by  these  orders,  and  the  men  then  pro- 
mised to  follow  their  example. 

At  this  moment,  just  as  the  regiment  was  about  to 
march  off.  Father  Bertrand  came  up  in  his  vestments, 
and,  addressing  the  Colonel,  begged  for  permission  to 
bless  the  regiment,  saying,  "  We  may  differ,  some  of  us, 
in  matters  of  religion,  but  the  blessing  of  an  old  man  and 
a  clergyman  can  do  nothing  but  good."  The  colonel  at 
once  assented,  and  Father  Bertrand,  lifting  his  hands  to 
heaven,  blessed  the  regiment  in  a  most  impressive  manner, 
offering  up  at  the  same  time  a  prayer  for  our  success,  and 
for  mercy  on  the  souls  of  those  soon  to  die. 

The  dash  on  the  city  was  to  have  taken  place  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  but  it  was  difficult  to 
collect  all  the  men  from  the  picquets  who  Avere  to 
take  part  in  the  assault,  and  day  was  breaking  before 
the  columns  Avere  complete.  The  engineers,  closely 
examininof  the  breaches,  found  that  durinir  the  nii^ht 
the  Sepoys  had  blocked  up  the  gaps  with  sandbags 
and  had  improvised  chevmix  de  frise.  The  attack 
was  accordingly  held  back  for  a  few  minutes  while 


310   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

the  British  batteries  re-opened  for  the  purpose  of 
smashing  the  new  defences. 

The  sun  was  clear  of  the  horizon  when,  at  a  signal, 
the  batteries  ceased.  A  sudden  silence  fell  on  the 
slope  of  the  Ridge  and  on  the  enemy's  wall.  A 
thrill  ran  through  the  waiting  columns,  as  each  man, 
like  a  hound  on  the  leash,  braced  himself  up  for  the 
desperate  rush.  Nicholson  had  been  standing,  silent 
and  alone,  in  front  of  his  column ;  and  now  with  a 
gesture  of  his  hand  he  gave  the  signal.  A  shout, 
sudden,  and  stern,  and  fierce,  broke  through  the  air. 
It  came  from  the  6oth  Rifles,  who  with  a  vehement 
cheer  ran  out  to  the  front  in  skirmishing  order,  and 
in  a  moment  the  four  columns  were  in  swift  and 
orderly  movement.  Then  the  enemy's  guns  from 
every  point  broke  into  flame  ! 

It  is  impossible  to  compress  into  a  few  paragraphs 
of  cold  type  the  story  of  that  great  assault ;  the  fire 
and  passion  of  the  charge,  the  stubborn  fury  of  the 
defence,  the  long,  mad  struggle  through  the  streets. 
And  the  fact  that  four  desperate  combats  at  as  many 
separate  points  broke  out  at  once  makes  it  still  more 
difficult  to  give  any  single  connected  picture  of  the 
scene. 

Nicholson  led  column  No.  i  steadily  forward  till  it 
reached  the  edge  of  the  jungle.  Then  the  engineers 
and  storming  party  went  forward  at  a  run.  They 
reached  the  crest  of  the  glacis,  and  stood  there  under 
a  perfect  blaze  of  musketry.     The  stormers  had  out- 


DELHI  :    THE    LEAP    ON    THE   CITY  3  I  I 

run  the  ladder  parties  !  The  ditch  gaped  sixteen 
feet  wide  below  them.  The  breach  in  front  was 
crowded  with  dark  figures,  shouting,  firing,  hurling 
stones,  all  in  a  tempest  of  Eastern  fury.  The 
ladders  were  quickly  up,  and  were  dropped  into  the 
ditch.  The  men  leaped  down,  and  almost  with  the 
same  impulse  swept  up  the  further  side — Nicholson's 
tall  figure  leading — and  men  and  officers,  contending 
madly  with  each  other  who  should  be  first,  raced  up 
the  broken  slope  of  the  breach,  dashed  the  Sepoys 
back  in  confused  flight,  and  gained  the  city  ! 

The  second  column  was  as  gallantly  led  as  the 
first,  and  met  with  an  almost  fiercer  resistance.  At 
the  signal  its  storming  party  ran  out  from  the 
shelter  of  the  Customs  house.  The  two  engineer 
officers,  Greathed  and  Ovenden,  and  twenty-nine 
men  out  of  the  thirty-nine  who  formed  the  ladder 
parties  were  instantly  shot  down ;  but  the  attack 
never  paused  for  an  instant.  The  men  of  the  8th,  the 
Sikhs,  and  the  Fusileers  came  on  with  a  silent  speed 
and  fury  that  nothing  could  stop.  The  ditch  was 
crossed,  as  with  a  single  effort.  One  officer — little 
more  than  a  lad — Ensign  Phillips,  with  soldierly 
quickness,  and  with  the  help  of  a  few  riflemen, 
swung  round  the  guns  on  the  Water  Bastion,  and 
opened  fire  with  them  on  the  Sepoys  themselves. 

The  assault  of  the  third  column,  directed  at  the 
Cashmere  Gate,  is,  perhaps,  the  most  picturesque 
and  well-known  incident  in  the  wild  story  of  that 


312    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

morning.  This  column  did  not  find  a  breach ;  one 
had  to  be  made  !  Campbell  brought  up  his  column 
within  sight  of  the  Cashmere  Gate,  but  under  cover ; 
then,  at  the  signal,  a  little  cluster  of  soldiers  ran  out 
towards  the  gate.  Its  first  section  consisted  of 
Home,  of  the  Engineers,  with  two  sergeants  and 
ten  sappers,  each  man  carrying  a  bag  containing 
twenty-five  pounds  of  gunpowder.  Behind  them 
ran  a  firing  party  of  the  52nd,  under  Salkeld.  The 
sight  of  that  little,  daring  handful  of  men,  charging 
straight  for  the  gate,  so  amazed  the  Sepoys  that 
for  a  few  moments  they  stared  at  them  without 
firing.  Then,  from  the  wall  on  either  side  of  the 
gate,  from  above  the  gate  itself,  and  from  an  open 
wicket  in  its  broad  expanse,  broke  a  sustained  and 
angry  blaze  of  musketry  ! 

To  run  steadily  on  in  the  teeth  of  such  a  fire  was 
a  feat  of  amazing  courage.  But,  Home  leading,  the 
little  cluster  of  heroes  never  faltered.  The  bridge  in 
front  of  the  gate  had  been  ahnost  completely  de- 
stroyed, a  single  beam  being  stretched  across  the  ditch; 
and,  in  single  file,  each  man  carrying  his  bag  of 
powder,  Home's  party — by  this  time  reduced  to  nearly 
one-half  of  its  number — crossed,  fluuGf  down  the  bag^s 
of  powder  at  the  foot  of  the  gate,  and  then  leaped  into 
the  ditch  for  cover,  leaving  the  firing  party  behind  to 
make  the  explosion. 

Salkeld  came  up  at  a  run,  carrying  the  port-fire  in 
his  hand,  his  men,  with  bent  heads,  racing  beside  him. 


DELHI  :    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  3  I  3 

Salkeld  fell,  shot  through  the  leg  and  arm ;  but,  like 
the  runner  in  Greek  games,  he  handed  the  port-fire  as 
he  fell  to  Corporal  Burgess,  who  in  turn,  as  he  bent 
over  the  powder,  was  shot  dead.  Lord  Roberts  says 
that  in  falling  he  yet  ignited  the  powder.  Malleson, 
on  the  other  hand,  says  that  Sergeant  Carmichael 
snatched  the  port-fire  from  the  dying  hand  of  Bur- 
gess, lit  the  fuse,  and  then,  in  his  turn,  fell  mortally 
wounded.  On  this  another  brave  fellow  named 
Smith,  thinking  Carmichael  had  failed,  ran  forward 
to  seize  the  port-fire,  but  saw  the  fuse  burning,  and 
leaped  into  the  ditch,  just  in  time  to  escape  the 
explosion. 

In  a  moment  there  was  a  blast  as  of  thunder,  and 
— not  the  gate  unfortunately,  but  merely  the  little 
wicket  in  it,  had  vanished !  The  bugler  from  the 
ditch  sounded  the  advance ;  but  such  was  the  tumult 
of  battle  now  raging  that  the  storming  parties  of  the 
52nd,  waiting  eagerly  to  make  their  rush,  heard 
neither  the  explosion  nor  the  bugle-call.  Campbell, 
their  colonel,  however,  had  seen  the  flame  of  the  ex- 
plosion, and  gave  the  word.  The  storming  party  and 
the  supports,  all  intermixed,  ran  forward  at  the  double, 
they  crossed,  man  after  man,  the  single  beam  remain- 
ing of  the  bridge,  and  crept  through  the  wicket. 
They  found  within  the  gate  an  overturned  cannon, 
and  some  blackened  Sepoy  corpses.  The  main  body 
followed,  and  from  the  two  breaches  and  the  Cash- 
mere Gate  the  three  columns  met,  breathless,  con- 


314   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

fused,  but  triumphant,  in  the  open  space  between  the 
Cashmere  Gate  and  the  church. 

The  fourth  cohimn  alone  of  the  assauUing  parties 
practically  failed.  A  battle  is  always  rich  in  blunders ; 
and  the  guns,  which  were  to  have  accompanied  the 
column,  somehow  failed  to  arrive,  and  Reid,  its  com- 
mander, pushed  on  without  them.  He  had  to  face 
an  unbroken  wall  i8  feet  high,  lined  with  guns  and 
marksmen.  Reid  himself  fell,  wounded  and  insen- 
sible, and  there  was  some  confusion  as  to  who  should 
take  his  place  as  leader.  It  was  expected  that  the 
Lahore  Gate  would  have  been  opened  from  within 
by  the  advance  of  the  first  column,  but,  before  the 
Lahore  Gate  was  reached  from  within  the  city  by 
the  British,  the  fourth  column  found  itself  unable 
to  sustain  the  murderous  fire  from  the  walls,  and  fell 
back  into  cover. 

The  Sepoys,  in  their  exultation,  actually  ventured 
upon  a  sally,  and  Hope  Grant  had  to  bring  up  the 
scanty  cavalry  of  the  camp  to  check  the  advance  of 
the  enemy. 

The  cavalry  could  not  charge,  for  this  would  bring 
them  under  the  fire  of  the  walls;  they  would  not 
withdraw,  for  this  would  uncover  the  camp.  They 
could  only  sit  grimly  in  their  saddles,  and  hold  back 
the  enemy  by  the  menace  of  their  presence,  while  men 
and  horses  went  down  unceasingly  under  the  sleet  of 
fire  which  broke  over  them.  ''For  more  than  two 
hours,"  says  Hodson,  "  we  had  to  sit  on  our  horses, 


DELHI  :    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  3  I  5 

under  the  heaviest  fire,  without  the  chance  of  doing 
anything.  My  young  regiment  behaved  admirably, 
as  did  all  hands.  The  slaughter  was  great.  Lamb's 
troop  lost  twenty-seven  men  out  of  forty-eight,  and 
nineteen  horses,  and  the  whole  cavalry  suffered  in 
the  same  proportion." 

Hope  Grant  tells  how  he  praised  the  9th  Lancers 
for  their  cool  steadiness,  and  the  men  answered  from 
the  ranks  that  they  were  ready  to  stand  as  long  as  he 
chose.  "  Hodson,"  says  one  officer  who  was  present, 
"  sat  like  a  man  carved  in  stone,  apparently  as  uncon- 
cerned as  the  sentries  at  the  Horse  Guards,  and  only 
by  his  eyes  and  his  ready  hand,  whenever  occasion 
offered,  could  you  have  told  that  he  was  in  deadly 
peril,  and  the  balls  flying  among  us  as  thick  as  hail  I " 

Delhi  in  shape  roughly  resembles  an  egg,  and, 
in  the  assault  we  have  described,  the  British  had 
cracked,  so  to  speak,  the  small  end.  Inside  the 
Cashmere  Gate  was  a  comparatively  clear  space, 
a  church,  a  Hindoo  temple,  and  a  mosque  being 
scattered  along  its  southern  boundary.  These  owed 
their  existence  to  the  somewhat  mixed  piety  of  James 
Skinner,  a  gallant  soldier,  who  played  a  brilliant  part 
in  Olive's  wars.  His  mother  was  a  Hindoo  lady, 
his  wife  w^as  a  Mohammedan ;  and,  being  severely 
wounded  in  some  engagement.  Skinner  vowed,  if  he 
recovered,  he  would  build  three  places  of  worship — a 
church,  a  temple,  and  a  mosque !  And  the  three 
buildings  which  stand  opposite  the  Cashmere  Gate 


3l6   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

are  the  fruits  of  that  very  composite  act  of  piety. 
The  three  assaulting  columns,  in  broken  order  and 
sadly  reduced  in  numbers,  but  in  resolute  fighting 
mood,  were  re-formed  in  the  open  space  in  front  of 
these  buildings. 

The  third  column,  under  Colonel  Campbell,  cleared 
the  buildings  on  its  left  front,  and  then  pushed  for- 
ward on  its  perilous  way  straight  through  the 
centre  of  the  city  towards  the  Jumma  Musjid,  a 
huge  mosque  that  lifted  its  great  roof  high  above 
the  streets  and  gardens  of  the  city  more  than  two 
miles  distant.  The  first  and  second  columns,  now 
practically  forming  one,  swung  to  the  right,  and, 
following  the  curve  of  the  "  egg  "  to  which  we  com- 
pared Delhi,  proceeded  to  clear  what  was  called  the 
Rampart  Road,  a  narrow  lane  running  immediately 
within  the  wall  round  the  whole  city.  It  was  in- 
tended to  jDush  along  this  lane  till  the  Lahore  Gate 
was  reached  and  seized.  The  Lahore  Gate  is  the 
principal  entrance  into  the  city,  the  main  street — 
the  Chandin  Chouk,  the  Silver  Bazaar — runs  from 
it  to  the  King's  Palace,  bisecting  the  "  egg  "  which 
forms  the  city.  If  this  gate  were  carried,  Delhi 
was  practically  in  the  British  possession. 

The  column,  led  by  Jones,  pushed  eagerly  on. 
The  Moree  Gate  and  the  Cabul  Gate  were  seized, 
the  guns  on  the  ramparts  were  captured,  and  the 
leading  files  of  the  advance  came  in  sight  of  the 
Lahore  Gate.     A  lane,  a  little  more  than  two  hurt- 


DELHI  :   THE    LEAP   ON    THE    CITY  3  1 7 

dred  and  fifty  yards  long,  led  to  it ;  but  that  narrow, 
crooked  path  was  "  a  valley  of  death  "  more  cruel 
and  bloody  than  that  down  which  Cardigan's  Light 
Cavalry  rode  in  the  famous  charge  at  Balaclava. 
The  city  wall  itself  formed  the  boundary  of  the 
lane  on  the  right;  the  left  was  formed  by  a  mass 
of  houses,  with  flat  roofs  and  parapets,  crowded  with 
riflemen.  The  lane  was  scarcely  ten  yards  wide 
at  its  broadest  part ;  in  places  it  was  narrowed  to 
three  feet  by  the  projecting  buttresses  of  the  wall. 

About  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  up  the  lane  was 
planted  a  brass  gun,  sheltered  by  a  bullet-proof 
screen.  At  the  further  extremity  of  the  lane,  where 
the  ground  rose,  was  a  second  gun,  placed  so  as  to 
cover  the  first,  and  itself  covered  by  a  bullet-proof 
screen.  Then,  like  a  massive  wall,  crossing  the 
head  of  the  lane,  rose  the  great  Burn  Bastion,  heavily 
armed,  and  capable  of  holding  a  thousand  men.  A 
force  of  some  8000  men,  too,  had  just  poured  into 
the  city  through  the  Lahore  and  Ajmeer  Gates, 
returning  from  the  sally  they  had  made  on  Reid's 
coluum ;  and  these  swarmed  round  the  side  and 
head  of  the  lane  to  hold  it  asrainst  the  British. 

o 

Never,  perhaps,  did  soldiers  undertake  a  more 
desperate  feat  than  that  of  fighting  a  way  through 
this  "gate  of  hell,"  held  by  Sepoys,  it  will  be  noted, 
full  of  triumph,  owing  to  their  repulse  of  the  attack  of 
the  fourth  column  under  Reid  already  described.  But 
never  was  a  desperate  deed  more  gallantly  attempted. 


3l8   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

The  attacking  party  was  formed  of  the  ist  Bengal 
Fusileers  ;  and,  their  officers  leading,  the  men  ran 
with  a  dash  at  the  lane.  They  were  scourged  with 
fire  from  the  roofs  to  the  left ;  the  guns  in  their 
front  swept  the  lane  with  grape.  But  the  men 
never  faltered.  They  took  the  first  gun  with  a 
rush,  and  raced  on  for  the  second.  But  the  lane 
narrowed,  and  the  "jam"  checked  the  speed  of 
the  men.  The  fire  of  the  enemy,  concentrated  on 
a  front  so  narrow,  was  murderous.  Stones  and 
round  shot  thrown  by  hand  from  the  roofs  and 
parapets  of  the  houses  Avere  added  to  musketry 
bullets  and  grape,  and  the  stormers  fell  back,  pant- 
ing and  bleeding,  but  still  full  of  the  wrath  of  battle, 
and  leaving  the  body  of  many  a  slain  comrade  scat- 
tered along  the  lane. 

Two  or  three  men  refused  to  turn  back,  and  actu- 
ally reached  the  screen  through  which  the  further 
gun  was  fired.  One  of  these  was  Lieutenant  Butler, 
of  the  ist  Benofal  Fusileers.  As  he  came  at  the  run 
through  the  white  smoke  he  struck  the  screen 
heavily  with  his  body ;  at  that  moment  two  Sepoys 
on  the  inner  side  thrust  through  the  screen  with 
their  bayonets.  The  shining  deadly  points  of  steel 
passed  on  either  side  of  Butler's  body,  and  he  was 
pinned  between  them  as  between  the  suddenly  ap- 
pearing prongs  of  a  fork  !  Butler,  twisting  his  head, 
saw  through  a  loophole  the  faces  of  the  two  Sepoys 
who  held  the   bayonets,  and  who   were   still  vehe- 


DELHI  :    TPIE    LEAP   ON    THE    CITY  3  1 9 

mently  pushing,  under  the  belief  that  they  held 
their  enemy  impaled.  With  his  revolver  he  coolly 
shot  them  both,  and  then  fell  back,  pelted  with 
bullets,  but,  somehow,  unhurt,  to  his  comrades,  who 
were  re-forming  for  a  second  charge  at  the  head  of 
the  lane. 

On  came  the  Fusileers  again,  a  cluster  of  officers 
leading,  well  in  advance  of  their  men.  Major  Jacob, 
who  commanded  the  regiment,  raced  in  that  heroic 
group.  Speke  was  there,  the  brother  of  the  African 
explorer;  Greville,  Wemyss,  and  the  gallant  Butler 
once  again.  The  first  gun  in  the  lane  was  captured 
once  more,  and  Greville,  a  cool  and  skilful  soldier, 
promptly  spiked  it.  But  the  interval  betwixt  the 
first  gun  and  the  second,  had  to  be  crossed.  It  was 
only  a  hundred  yards,  but  on  every  foot  of  it  a  cease- 
less  and  fiery  hail  of  shot  was  beating.  The  officers, 
as  they  led,  went  down  one  by  one.  Jacob,  one  of 
the  most  gallant  soldiers  of  the  whole  siege,  fell,  mor- 
tally wounded.  Jacob's  special  quality  as  a  soldier  was 
a  strangely  gentle  but  heroic  coolness.  The  flame  of 
battle  left  him  at  the  temperature  of  an  icicle ;  its 
thunder  did  not  quicken  his  pulse  by  a  single  beat, 
and  his  soldiers  had  an  absolute  and  exultant  con- 
fidence in  the  quick  sight,  the  swift  action,  the 
unfaltering  composure  of  their  gallant  commander. 
Some  of  his  men  halted  to  pick  him  up  when  he  fell, 
but  he  called  to  them  to  leave  him,  and  press  for- 
ward.    Six   other   officers,   one   after   another,   were 


320    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

struck  down ;  the  rush  slackened,  it  paused,  the  men 
ebbed  sullenly  back ;  the  second  attack  had  failed  ! 

Nicholson,  as  the  officer  in  general  command  of  the 
assaulting  columns,  might  well  have  remained  at  the 
Cashmere  Gate,  controlling  the  movements  of  the 
columns ;  but  his  eager,  vehement  spirit  carried  him 
always  to  the  fighting  front.  He  first  accompanied 
Campbell's  column  on  its  perilous  march,  but  then 
rejoined  his  oAvn  proper  column  just  as  it  came  in 
sight  of  the  Lahore  Gate.  The  officers  immediately 
about  him — men  themselves  of  the  highest  daring — 
advised  that,  as  the  attack  of  the  fourth  column  had 
failed,  it  would  be  wise  strategy  to  hold  strongly  the 
portion  of  the  city  they  had  carried  and  reorganise 
another  general  assault.  They  had  done  enough  for 
the  day.  Their  men  had  lost  heavily,  and  were  ex- 
hausted. They  were  in  ignorance  of  the  fortunes  of 
the  other  columns. 

But  Nicholson's  fiery  spirit  was  impatient  of  half 
measures  or  of  delays.  He  was  eager,  moreover,  to 
check  the  dangerous  elation  caused  amongst  the 
Sepoys  by  their  repulse  of  the  fourth  column.  So  he 
resolutely  launched  a  new  assault  on  the  Lahore  Gate. 
How  gallantly  the  officers  led  in  an  attack  which  yet 
their  judgment  condemned  has  been  told. 

Nicholson  watched  the  twice-repeated  rush  of  the 
Fusileers,  and  the  fall,  one  by  one,  of  the  officers  who 
led  them.  When  the  men  for  a  second  time  fell  back, 
Nicholson  himself  sprang  into  the  lane,  and,  waving 


DELHI:    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  32  I 

his  sword,  called  on  bis  men,  with  the  deep,  vibrating 
voice  all  knew,  to  follow  their  general.  But  even 
while  be  spoke,  his  sword  pointing  up  the  lane,  his 
face,  full  of  the  passion  of  battle,  turned  towards  the 
broken,  staggering  front  of  his  men,  a  Sepoy  leaned 
from  the  windoAv  of  a  house  close  by,  pointed  his 
musket  across  a  distance  of  little  more  than  three 
yards  at  Nicholson's  tall  and  stately  figure,  and  shot 
him  through  the  body.  Nicholson  fell.  The  wound 
was  mortal ;  but,  raising  himself  up  on  his  elbow,  he 
still  called  on  the  men  to  "  go  on."  He  rejected  im- 
patiently the  eager  help  that  was  offered  to  him, 
and  declared  he  would  lie  there  till  the  lane  was 
carried.  But,  as  Kaye  puts  it,  ho  was  asking  dying 
what  he  had  asked  living — that  which  was  all  but 
impossible. 

Colonel  Gray  don  tells  how  he  stooped  over  the 
fallen  Nicholson,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  con- 
vey him  to  a  place  of  safety;  but  Nicholson  de- 
clared "he  would  allow  no  man  to  remove  him,  but 
would  die  there."  It  was,  in  fact,  a  characteristic 
flash  of  chivalry  that  made  Nicholson  at  last  consent 
to  be  removed.  He  would  allow  no  one  to  touch 
him,  says  Trotter,  "  except  Captain  Hay,  of  the  60th 
Native  Infantry,  with  whom  he  was  not  upon  friendly 
terms.  'I  will  make  up  my  difference  with  3'ou 
Hay,'  he  gasped  out.     '  I  will  let  you  take  me  back. '  " 

The  lane  was  strewn  with  the  British  dead.     To 
carry  it  without  artillery  was  hopeless.     There  were 

X 


322    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

no  better  soldiers  on  the  Ridge  than  the  ist  Bengal 
Fusileers — "  the  dear  old  dirty-shirts  "  of  Lord  Lake. 
When  they,  on  the  morning  of  that  day,  broke  through 
the  embrasures  of  the  Cashmere  battery,  one  of  their 
officers  has  left  on  record  the  statement  that  "  the 
Sepoys  fled  as  they  saw  the  white  faces  of  the  Fusi- 
leers looking  sternly  at  them."  They  fled,  that  is, 
not  from  thrust  of  steel  and  flash  of  musket,  but 
before  the  mere  menace  of  those  threatening,  war- 
hardened  countenances  !  The  ist,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
had  their  muskets  slung  behind,  to  enable  them  to 
use  their  hands  in  climbing  the  breach,  and  so,  when 
they  came  up  the  crest  of  the  breach  and  through 
the  embrasures,  the  men  had  no  muskets  in  their 
hands.  The  threat  written  on  their  faces  literally  put 
the  Sepoys  to  flight.  Where  such  men  as  these  had 
failed,  what  troops  could  succeed  ? 

The  column  fell  slowly  and  sullenly  back  to  the 
Cabul  Gate,  the  wounded  being  sent  to  the  rear. 
Lord  Roberts  tells  us  that,  being  sent  by  Wilson  to 
ascertain  how  affairs  were  going  on  in  the  city,  he 
observed  as  he  rode  through  the  Cashmere  Gate  a 
doolie  by  the  side  of  the  road  Avithout  bearers,  and 
with  evidently  a  wounded  man  inside.     Ho  says : — 

I  dismounted  to  see  if  I  coukl  be  of  any  use  to  the  occu- 
pant, when  I  found,  to  my  grief  and  consternation,  that  it 
was  John  Nicholson,  with  death  written  on  his  face.  He 
told  me  that  the  bearers  had  put  the  doolie  down  and  had 
gone  off  to  plunder ;  that  he  was  in  great  pain,  and  wished 


DELHI:    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  323 

to  be  taken  to  the  hospital.  He  was  lying  on  his  back,  no 
wound  was  visible,  and  but  for  the  pallor  of  his  face,  always 
colourless,  there  w^as  no  sign  of  the  agony  he  must  have 
been  enduring.  On  my  expressing  a  hope  that  he  was  not 
seriously  wounded,  he  said,  "  T  am  dying ;  there  is  no 
chance  for  me."  The  sight  of  that  great  man  lying  help- 
less and  on  the  point  of  death  was  almost  more  than  I 
could  bear.  Other  men  had  daily  died  around  me,  friends 
and  comrades  had  been  killed  beside  me,  but  I  never  felt 
as  I  felt  then — to  lose  Nicholson  seemed  to  me  at  that 
moment  to  lose  everything. 

Nicholson's  fall,  it  is  striking  to  note,  impressed 
every  one  in  that  tiny  and  heroic  army  at  Delhi  ex- 
actly as  it  impressed  Roberts.  He  lingered  through 
all  the  days  of  slow,  stubborn,  resolute  fighting,  which 
won  Delhi ;  but  day  by  day  the  news  about  Nichol- 
son's fluctuating  life  was  almost  more  important 
than  the  tidings  that  this  position  or  that  had  been 
carried.  Nicholson  was  a  man  wdth  Olive's  genius 
for  battle  and  mastery  over  men,  while  in  the 
qualities  of  chivalry  and  honour  he  deserved  to  be 
classed  wdth  Outram  or  Havelock.  Ho  w^as  only 
thirty-seven  when  he  died ;  what  fame  he  might 
have  won,  had  he  lived,  no  man  can  tell.  He  was 
certainly  one  of  the  greatest  soldiers  the  English- 
speaking  race  has  produced. 

Many  monuments  have  been  erected  to  Nicholson  ; 
one  over  his  actual  grave,  another — with  an  unfor- 
tunately elaborate  inscription — in  the  parish  church 
at  Lisburn,      But   the   fittest   and  most  impressive 


324    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

monument  is  a  plain  obelisk  erected  on  the  crest 
of  the  Margalla  Pass,  the  scene,  in  1848,  of  one  of 
his  most  daring  exploits.  There  in  the  wild  border 
pass  stands  the  great  stone  pillar,  and  ronnd  it  still 
gathers  many  a  native  tradition  of  the  daring  and 
might  of  the  great  sahib.  Sir  Donald  Macnab  says 
that  when  the  worshippers  of  "  Nikkul-Seyn "  in 
Hazara  heard  of  his  death,  "  they  came  together  to 
lament,  and  one  of  them  stood  forth  and  said  there 
was  no  gain  from  living  in  a  world  that  no  longer 
held  Nikalsain.  So  he  cut  his  throat  deliberately 
and  died."  The  others,  however,  reflected  that  this 
was  not  the  way  to  serve  their  great  guru ;  they 
must  learn  to  worship  ''  Nikalsain's  God " ;  and 
the  entire  sect  actually  accepted  Christianity  on 
the  evidence  of  Nicholson's  personality ! 

Campbell's  column,  meanwhile,  had  fought  its  way 
across  two-thirds  of  the  city,  and  come  in  sight  of 
the  massive  arched  gateway  of  the  Jumma  Musjid. 
But  the  engineers  that  accompanied  the  column  had 
fallen ;  Campbell  had  no  artillery  to  batter  down  the 
great  gate  of  the  mosque,  and  no  bags  of  powder 
with  which  to  blow  it  ujd.  He  was,  however,  a 
stubborn  Scottish  veteran,  and  he  clung  to  his 
position  in  front  of  the  mosque  till  he  learnt  of 
the  failure  to  carry  the  Lahore  Gate.  Then,  judg- 
ing with  soldierly  coolness  that  it  would  be  im23ossible 
to  hold  unsupported  the  enormously  advanced  posi- 
tion he  had  won,  he  fell  back  in  leisurely  fashion 


DELHI:    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  325 

till  ho  came  into  toucli  with  the  reserve  coluuiu 
at  the  Cashmere  Gate. 

The  British  colmnns  had  been  figrhtini^  for  over 
six  hours,  and  had  lost  66  officers  and  1104  men, 
or  very  nearly  every  fourth  man  in  the  assaulting 
force.  Amongst  the  fallen,  too,  were  many  of  the 
most  daring  spirits  in  the  whole  force,  the  men  who 
were  the  natural  leaders  in  every  desperate  enter- 
prise. Less  than  4000  of  the  brave  men  wdio 
followed  Nicholson  and  Jones  and  Campbell  across 
the  breaches  or  through  the  Cashmere  Gate  that 
morning  remained  unwounded,  and  there  were 
40,000  Sepoys  yet  in  Delhi !  Of  the  great  "  egg," 
too,  which  formed  the  city,  the  British  held  only 
the  tiny  northern  extremity. 

Under  these  conditions  Wilson's  nerve  once  more 
failed  him.  He  doubted  whether  he  ought  to  persist 
in  the  assault.  Was  it  not  safer  to  fall  back  on  the 
Ridge  ?  Repeatedly,  in  fact,  through  the  days  of 
stubborn  fighting  wdiich  followed,  AVilson  meditated 
the  fatal  policy  of  retreat.  He  was  worn-out  in  mind 
and  body.  His  nerve  had  failed  at  Meerut  when  the 
Mutiny  first  broke  out ;  it  threatened  to  fail  again 
here  at  Delhi,  in  the  very  crisis  of  the  assault.  To 
walk  a  few  steps  exhausted  him.  And  it  was 
fortunate  for  the  honour  of  England  and  the  fate 
of  India  that  Wilson  had  round  him  at  that  crisis 
men  of  sterner  fibre  than  his  own.  Some  one  told 
Nicholson,  as  he  lay  on  his  death-bed,  of  Wilson's 


326    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

hesitations.     "  Thank  God,"  whispered  Nicholson,  "  I 
have  strength  yet  to  shoot  him  if  necessary  ! " 

Wilberforco,  in  his  "  Unrecorded  Chapter  of  the 
Indian  Mutiny,"  gives  a  somewhat  absurd,  and  not 
too  credible,  account  of  the  incident  which,  accord- 
ing to  him,  kept  Wilson's  nerve  steady  at  that  crisis. 
The  52nd,  after  so  many  hours  of  fighting,  had  fallen 
back  on  the  reserve  at  the  Cashmere  Gate,  and  Wil- 
berforco, who  belonged  to  that  regiment,  was  occupied 
with  a  brother  officer  in  compounding  a  "  long  "  glass 
of  brandy  and  soda  to  quench  his  thirst.  His  com- 
panion poured  in  so  generous  an  allowance  of  brandy 
that  he  was  afraid  to  drink  it.     He  says : — 

Not  liking  to  waste  it,  we  looked  round  us,  and  saw 
a  group  of  officers  on  the  steps  of  the  church,  apparently 
engaged  in  an  animated  conversation.  Among  them  was 
an  old  man,  who  looked  as  if  a  good  "  peg  "  (the  common 
term  for  a  brandy  and  soda)  would  do  him  good.  Draw- 
ing, therefore,  nearer  the  group,  in  order  to  offer  the 
"  P®g  "  ^^  "tl^®  okl  officer,  we  heard  our  colonel  say,  "  All 
I  can  say  is  that  I  won't  retire,  but  will  hold  the  walls 
with  my  regiment."  I  then  offered  our  "peg"  to  the 
old  officer,  whom  we  afterwards  knew  to  be  General 
Wilson.  He  accepted  it,  drank  it  off,  and  a  few  minutes 
after  we  heard  him  say,  "  You  are  quite  right — to  retire 
would  be  to  court  disaster  ;  we  will  stay  where  we  are  !  " 

"  On  such  little  matters,"  Wilberforce  gravely  re- 
flects, "  great  events  often  depend  !  "  The  course  of 
British  history  in  India,  in  a  Avord,  was  decisively 
affected  by  that  accidental  glass  of  brandy  and  soda 


DELHI:    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  327 

he  offered  to  General  Wilson !  It  tiyhtened  his 
shaken  nerves  to  the  key  of  resolution  !  Wilber- 
force's  book  belongs  rather  to  the  realm  of  fiction 
than  of  grave  history,  and  his  history-making  glass 
of  brandy  and  soda  may  be  dismissed  as  a  flight  of 
fancy.  It  was  the  cool  judgment  and  the  un- 
faltering daring  of  men  like  Baird  Smith  and 
Neville  Chamberlain,  and  other  gallant  spirits  im- 
mediately around  Wilson,  which  saved  him  from 
the  tragedy  of  a  retreat.  When  Wilson  asked  Baird 
Smith  whether  it  was  possible  to  hold  the  ground 
they  had  won,  the  curt,  decisive  answer  of  that  fine 
soldier  was,  "  We  must  hold  it ! "  And  that  white 
flame  of  heroic  purpose  burnt  just  as  intensely  in 
the  whole  circle  of  AVilson's  advisers. 

The  British  troops  held  their  position  undisturbed 
■on  the  night  of  the  14th.  The  15th  was  spent  in 
restoring  order  and  preparing  for  a  new  assault. 
There  is  a  curious  conflict  of  testimony  as  to 
whether  or  not  the  troops  had  got  out  of  hand 
owing  to  mere  drunkenness.  It  is  certam  that 
enormous  stores  of  beer,  spirits,  and  wine  were 
found  in  that  portion  of  the  city  held  by  the 
British,  Lord  Roberts  says,  "  I  did  not  see  a 
single  drunken  man  throughout  the  day  of  assault, 
and  I  visited  every  position  held  by  our  trooj)s 
within  the  walls  of  the  city."  This  bit  of  evidence 
seems  final.  Yet  it  would  be  easy  to  quote  a  dozen 
witnesses  to  prove  that  there   was  drunkenness  to 


3  28    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

a  perilous  extent  amongst  the  troops,  and  it  is 
certain  that  Wilson  found  it  expedient  to  give 
orders  for  the  destruction  of  the  whole  of  the  vast 
stores  of  beer  and  spirits  which  had  fallen  into  his 
hands. 

A  new  plan  of  attack  was  devised  by  the 
engineers.  Batteries  were  armed  with  guns  captured 
from  the  enemy,  and  a  destructive  fire  main- 
tained  on  the  chief  positions  yet  held  in  the  city. 
The  attacks,  too,  were  now  directed,  not  along  the 
narrow  streets  and  winding  lanes  of  the  city,  but 
throuQ^h  the  houses  themselves.  Thus  wall  after 
wall  was  broken  through,  house  after  house  cap- 
tured, the  Sepoys  holding  them  were  bayoneted, 
and  so  a  stern  and  bloody  path  was  driven  to  the 
Lahore  Gate. 

On  the  1 6th  the  famous  magazine  which  Wil-. 
loughby  had  blown  up,  when  Delhi  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  rebels  early  in  May,  was  captured, 
and  it  was  found  that  Willoughby's  heroic  act  had 
been  only  partially  successful.  The  magazine,  that 
is,  was  less  than  half  destroyed,  and  the  British 
found  in  it  no  fewer  than  171  guns,  mostly  of 
large  calibre,  with  enormous  stores  of  ammunition. 
The  Sepoys  read  their  doom  in  the  constant  flight 
of  shells  from  the  British  batteries  in  the  city. 
They  read  it,  in  almost  plainer  characters,  in  the 
stubborn  daring  with  which  a  path  was  being 
blasted   through   the   mass   of  crowded   houses   to- 


DELHI:    THE    LEAP    ON    THE    CITY  329 

wards  the  Lahore  Gate.  And  from  the  southern 
extremity  of  the  city  there  commenced  a  great 
human  leakage,  a  perpetual  dribble  of  deserting 
Sepoys  and  flying  budmashes. 

Lord  Roberts  served  personally  with  the  force 
driving  its  resolute  way  across  houses,  courtyards, 
and  lanes,  towards  the  Lahore  Gate,  and  he  tells, 
graphically,  the  story  of  its  exploits.  On  Septem- 
ber 19,  the  men  had  broken  their  way  through  to 
the  rear  of  the  Burn  Bastion.  Only  the  width  of  the 
lane  separated  them  from  the  bastion  itself.  The 
little  party,  100  strong — only  one-half  of  them 
British — gathered  round  the  door  that  opened  on 
the  lane,  the  engineer  officer  burst  it  open,  and 
Gordon,  of  the  75tli  Foot,  leading,  the  handful  of 
gallant  men  dashed  across  the  lane,  leaped  wpon  the 
ramp,  raced  up  it,  and  jumped  into  the  bastion. 
They  bayoneted  or  shot  its  guards,  and  captured 
the  bastion  without  losing  a  man  ! 

The  next  day,  with  great  daring,  Roberts  and 
Lang  of  the  Engineers,  following  a  native  guide, 
crept  through  the  tangle  of  courtyards  and  lanes, 
till  they  reached  the  upper  room  of  a  house  within 
fifty  yards  of  the  Lahore  Gate.  "  From  the  window 
of  this  room,"  says  Roberts,  '*'  we  could  see  beneath 
us  the  Sepoys  lounging  about,  engaged  in  cleaning 
their  muskets  and  other  occupations  ;  while  some, 
in  a  lazy  sort  of  fashion,  were  acting  as  sentries 
over    the    gatewiiy    and    two    guns,    one    of   which 


330    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  Sabzi  Mandi,  the 
other  down  the  lane  behind  the  ramparts,  leading 
to  the  Burn  Bastion  and  Cabul  Gate.  I  could  see 
from  the  number  on  their  caps  that  these  Sepoys 
belonged  to  the  5  th  Native  Infantry."  The  troops 
were  brought  up  silently  by  the  same  route,  and 
leaped  suddenly  on  the  gate,  capturing  it,  and  slay- 
ing or  putting  to  terrified  flight  the  Sepoys  whom 
Lanof  and  Roberts  had  watched  in  such  a  mood  of 
careless  and  opium-fed  unconcern  only  a  few  minutes 
before. 

The  party  that  captured  the  Lahore  Gate  then 
moved  up  the  great  street  running  from  it  through 
the  Silver  Bazaar — its  shops  all  closed — till  they 
reached  the  Delhi  Bank,  which  they  carried.  Another 
column  forced  its  way  into  the  Jumma  Musjid, 
blowing  in  its  gates  without  loss. 


CHAPTER  XII 

DELHI  :    RETRIBUTION 

THERE  remained  the  great  palace,  the  last  strong- 
hold of  the  Mutiny,  a  building  famous  in  history 
and  in  romance.  The  6oth  Rifles  were  launched 
against  it,  the  gates  were  blown  open,  and  the  troops 
broke  their  way  in.  They  found  it  practically 
deserted.  The  garrison  had  fled,  the  king  and  his 
household  Avere  fugitives,  and  the  clash  of  British 
bayonets,  the  tramp  of  British  feet,  rang  through 
the  abandoned  halls  and  ruined  corridors  of  the 
palace  of  the  Mogul. 

The  flight  of  the  garrison  from  the  imperial  palace 
had  been  hastened  by  a  very  gallant  feat  of  arms. 
Between  the  palace  and  the  bridge  crossing  the 
Jumna  is  a  strong  fort,  a  sort  of  outwork  to  the 
palace,  called  the  Selingarh.  An  officer.  Lieutenant 
Aikman,  with  a  party  of  Wilde's  Sikhs,  had  been 
despatched  to  reconnoitre  along  the  river  front. 
Aikman,  who  knew  the  c:round  thorousfhlv,  and 
who  was  of  a  daring  temper,  determined  to  make 
a  dash  at  the  Selingarh,  and  so  prevent  the  escape 
of  the  kinjj"  and  his  coiu't   across   the  river.     AVith 

his  handful  of  Sikhs,  Aikman  carried  the  Selingarh 

331 


112        THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

with  one  fierce  rush,  and  seized  the  passage  con- 
necting the  rear  gate  of  the  palace  with  the  fort, 
thus  phigging  up  that  opportunity  for  flight.  The 
king,  with  his  court,  as  it  happened,  had  fled  al- 
ready, but  as  Aikman  held  the  rear  gate  of  the 
palace,  while  the  6otli  Rifles  blew  in  its  front  gates, 
all  who  remained  in  it  were  made  prisoners. 

That  the  imperial  palace  should  have  been  carried 
almost  without  loss  of  life  seems  wonderful.  It 
proves  how  completely  the  sj)irit  of  the  Sepoys 
had  been  broken  by  the  fiery  valour  of  the  British 
assaults.  Yet  even  the  capture  of  the  palace  was 
marked  b}^  some  curious,  though  isolated,  examples 
of  courage  on  the  part  of  the  rebels. 

Hope  Grant,  for  example,  records  that  a  sentry 
was  found  at  one  of  the  palace  gates  dressed  and 
equipped  according  to  regulation,  and  marching  up 
and  down  on  his  beat  with  his  musket  on  his 
shoulder.  "  In  a  museum  at  Naples,"  he  adds,  "  is 
to  be  seen  the  skull  and  helmet  of  a  man  who  was 
found  buried  at  his  post  in  a  sentry-box  in  the 
midst  of  the  lava.  The  inscription  states  the 
occupant  to  have  been  a  '  brave  soldier ' ;  but  no- 
thing could  have  been  braver  or  cooler  than  the 
conduct  of  this  Sepoy,  who  must  have  known  that 
his  fate  was  sealed."  Roberts,  who  shared  in  the 
rush  for  the  palace  gates,  adds  another  curious 
example  of  Sepoy  courage.  They  found  the  re- 
cesses in  the  long  passage  which  led  to  the  palace 


DELTTI  :    RETRIBUTION  333 

buildings  packed  with  wounded  men,  but  about 
thirty  yards  up  the  passage  stood  a  Sepoy  in  the 
uniform  of  a  grenadier  of  the  37  th  Native  Infantry. 
The  man  stood  quietly  as  the  British  came  along 
the  passage,  with  his  musket  on  his  hip.  Then  he 
coolly  raised  his  musket  and  fired  at  the  advancing 
party,  sending  his  bullet  through  the  helmet  of  the 
leading  Englishman.  Next,  dropping  his  musket 
to  the  level,  he  charged  single-handed  down  on  the 
entire  detachment  of  the  60th,  and  was  killed  ! 

Colonel  Jones,  who  commanded  the  Rifles,  sent 
a  pencilled  note  to  Wilson  announcing,  with  soldier- 
like brevity,  "  Blown  open  the  gate  and  got  possession 
of  the  palace." 

At  sunrise  on  the  morning  of  September  21a  royal 
salute  rang  over  Delhi,  its  pulses  of  deep  sound  pro- 
claiming to  all  India  that  the  sacred  city,  the  home 
and  stronghold  of  the  revolt,  was  once  more  in 
British  hands.  That  same  day  Wilson  moved  in 
from  his  rough  camp  on  the  Ridge,  and  established 
his  headquarters  in  the  Dewan-i-khas,  the  king's 
private  hall  of  audience. 

But  if  Delhi  was  captured,  the  King  of  Delhi,  with 
all  the  leading  figures  in  the  Mutiny,  yet  remained 
free,  and  might  easily  become  the  centre  of  new 
troubles.  The  rebel  commander-in-chief  felt  that 
the  game  was  up  when  the  Burn  Bastion  was  carried, 
and  he  fled  from  the  city  that  night,  carrying  with 
him  most  of  his  troops.     He  urged  the  king  to  flee 


334    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

with  him,  and  to  renew  the  war  in  the  open  country, 
where  his  name  would  have  all  the  magical  charm 
of  a  spell  on  the  imagination  of  the  common  people. 
But  the  unhappy  king  was  old  and  tired.  His  nerve 
had  been  dissolved  in  the  sloth  and  sensualities  of 
an  Indian  court.  His  favourite  wife  strongly  opposed 
flight,  in  the  interests  of  her  child,  whom  she  hoped 
to  see  succeeding  the  king. 

The  unhappy  monarch,  in  a  word,  could  neither 
flee  nor  stay,  and  he  took  refuge  in  a  stately  cluster 
of  famous  buildings  named  Humayon's  Tomb,  some 
seven  miles  out  of  Delhi.  Hodson,  the  daring  and 
famous  captain  of  Light  Horse,  ascertained  this,  and 
with  some  trouble  extracted  from  Wilson  permission 
to  attempt  the  capture  of  the  king,  with  strict  instruc- 
tions to  promise  him  his  life.  Taking  fifty  picked 
men  from  his  regiment,  Hodson  rode  out  on  one  of 
the  most  audacious  expeditions  ever  undertaken. 

The  road  to  Humayon's  Tomb  at  one  point  runs 
underneath  a  strong  tower,  where  the  king  had  at 
first  taken  refuge,  and  which  was  still  filled  with  his 
adherents.  Fierce  dark  faces  looked  down  from  its 
parapets  and  from  every  arrow-slit  in  its  walls  as 
Hodson,  with  his  little  cluster  of  horsemen,  rode 
past.  But  in  the  Englishman's  stern  face  and  cool, 
unflurried  bearing  there  was  something  which  awed 
those  who  looked  on  him,  and  not  a  shot  was  fired  as 
the  party  rode  by  on  their  stern  errand. 

Hodson  and  his  men  reached  the  spot  where  the 


DELHI:    RETPtTBUTION  33  5 

tomb  lifts  its  dome  of  stainless  marble  high  in  the 
air.  In  one  of  the  chambers  of  that  great  pillar  sat, 
trembling,  the  last  heir  of  the  house  of  Timour;  in 
the  cloisters  at  its  foot  were  some  thousands  of  the 
servants  and  hangers-on  of  the  palace,  armed  and 
excited. 

For  two  hours  Hodson  sat  in  his  saddle  before  the 
gate,  his  men  posted — a  slender  chain  of  cavalry — 
round  the  tomb,  while  messengers  passed  to  and  fro 
between  him  and  the  king.  "  Picture  to  yourself," 
said  Hodson's  brother,  when  telling  the  story,  "  the 
scene  before  that  magnificent  gateway,  with  the 
milk-white  domes  of  the  tomb  towering  up  from 
within.  One  Avhite  man,  amongst  a  host  of  natives, 
determined  to  secure  his  prisoner  or  perish  in  the 
attempt  1 " 

The  kmg  at  last  consented  to  come  out  and  deliver 
hhnself  to  Hodson,  but  only  on  condition  that  he 
repeated  with  his  own  lips  Wilson's  promise  of  safety 
for  his  life.  Presently  the  king  came  out,  carried 
in  a  bullock-carriage,  and  Hodson  spurred  his  horse 
forward  and  demanded  the  kin<2"'s  arms.  The  kin<4- 
asked  him  whether  he  were  Hodson  Bahadur,  and  if 
he  promised  him  his  life.  Hodson  gave  the  required 
promise,  but  added  grindy  that  if  any  attempt  were 
made  at  a  rescue  he  Avould  shoot  the  king  down  like 
a  dog  1  Then  the  procession,  at  a  foot  walk,  moved 
on  to  the  city,  thousands  of  natives  following  and 
gazing  in  wonder  at  the  lordly  tigure  of  that  solitary 


33^    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

Englishman  carrying  off  their  king  alone.  But 
Hodson's  calm  and  dauntless  bearing  acted  as  a 
spell  on  the  crowd. 

Bit  by  bit  the  multitude  slunk  away,  and,  with  his 
fifty  horsemen  and  his  group  of  prisoners,  Hods'^n 
rode  up  to  the  Lahore  Gate.  "  What  have  you  got 
in  that  palkee  ? "  asked  the  officer  on  duty.  "  Only 
the  King  of  Delhi ! "  said  Hodson.  The  clustering 
guard  at  the  gate  were  with  difficulty  kept  from 
cheering.  The  little  group  moved  up  the  stately 
Silver  Bazaar  to  the  palace  gate,  where  Hodson 
delivered  over  his  royal  prisoners  to  the  civil  officer 
in  charge.  ''  By  Jove,  Hodson,"  said  that  astonished 
official,  "  they  ought  to  make  you  Commander-in- 
Chief  for  this  ! "  When  Hodson  reported  his  success 
to  Wilson,  that  sfeneral's  unsfracious  and  characteristic 
comment  was,  '•'  Well,  I'm  glad  you've  got  him.  But 
I  never  expected  to  see  either  you  or  him  again ! " 

Hope  Grant  tells  how  he  went  to  see  the  fallen 
monarch  in  his  prison : — 

He  was  an  old  man,  said  by  one  of  the  servants  to  be 
ninety  years  of  age,  short  in  stature,  slight,  very  fair  for  a 
native,  and  with  a  high-bred,  delicate-looking  cast  of 
features.  Truly  the  dignity  had  departed  from  the  Great 
Mogul,  whose  ancestors  had  once  been  lords  of  princely 
possessions  in  India.  It  might  have  been  supposed  that 
death  would  have  been  preferable  to  such  humiliation,  but 
it  is  wonderful  how  we  all  cling  to  the  shreds  of  life. 
When  I  saw  the  poor  old  man  he  was  seated  on  a  wretched 
charpoy,  or  native  bed,  with  his  legs  crossed  before  him. 


DELHI:    RETRIBUTION  33  7 

and  swinging  his  body  backwards  and  forwards  with  an 
unconscious  dreamy  look.  I  asked  him  one  or  two  ques- 
tions, and  was  surprised  to  hear  an  unpleasantly  vulgar 
voice  answering  from  behind  a  small  screen.  I  was  told 
that  this  proceeded  from  his  begum,  or  queen,  who  pre- 
vented him  from  replying,  fearful  lest  he  might  say  some- 
thing which  should  compromise  their  safety. 

Sir  Richard  Temple,  who  prepared  the  evidence  for 
the  trial  of  the  ex- king  of  Delhi,  paid  many  visits  to 
the  ill-fated  monarch  durinGf  his  confinement.     ''It 

o 

was  a  strange  sight,"  he  says,  "  to  sec  the  aged  man, 
seated  in  a  darkened  chamber  of  his  palace ;  the  finely 
chiselled  features,  arched  eyebrows,  aquiline  profile, 
the  sickly  pallor  of  the  olive  complexion,  nervous 
twitching  of  the  face,  delicate  fingers  counting  beads, 
muttering  speech,  incoherent  language,  irritable  self- 
consciousness — altogether  made  up  a  curious  picture. 
Here  sat  the  last  of  the  Great  Moguls,  the  descen- 
dant of  emperors  two  centuries  ago  ruling  the 
second  largest  population  in  the  world ;  who  had 
himself,  though  a  })hantom  sovereign,  been  treated 
Avith  regal  honours.  He  was  now  about  to  bo 
tried  for  his  life  by  judges  whose  forefathers  had 
sued  for  favour  and  protection  from  his  imperial 
ancestors." 

But  there  still  remained  uncaptured  the  two  sons 
and  the  grandson  of  the  king.  The  princes  had  a 
very  evil  fame.  They  had  tortured  and  slain  English 
prisoners.    They  had  been  the  leading  figures  in  the 

Y 


33S         THE    TALE    OF   THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

Mutiny.  Their  hands  were  red  with  innocent  blood, 
the  blood  of  little  children  and  of  helpless  women. 
The  princes — Mirza  Mogul,  at  one  time  the  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  rebel  forces,  Mirza  Khejoo 
Sultan,  and  Mirza  Aboo  Bukir,  the  son  of  the  late 
heir-apparent — with  some  6000  or  7000  followers, 
had  occupied  Humayon's  Tomb  after  the  king's 
capture,  partly  in  a  mood  of  fatalistic  despair,  and 
partly  with  the  expectation  that  they  might  find  the 
same  mercy  the  king  had  found. 

Macdowell,  who  was  second  in  command  of  Hod- 
son's  Horse,  tells  how,  on  September  21,  he  got  a 
note  from  Hodson,  "  Come  sharp ;  bring  100  men." 
He  rode  off  at  once,  and,  on  meeting,  Hodson  ex- 
plained that  he  had  ascertained  that  the  three 
princes  were  in  Humayon's  Tomb,  and  he  meant 
to  bring  them  in. 

Hodson  rode  to  the  tomb,  halted  his  troop  out- 
side it,  and  sent  in  a  messenger  demanding  the 
surrender  of  the  princes.  They  asked  for  a  promise 
of  their  lives,  but  Hodson  sternly  refused  any  such 
pledge.  As  Hodson  and  Macdowell  sat,  side  by 
side,  on  their  horses,  they  could  hear  the  stormy 
shouts  of  the  followers  of  the  princes  begging  to 
be  led  out  against  the  infidels.  But  Hodson's 
audacity  and  iron  resolve  prevailed,  as  they  pre- 
vailed the  day  before  in  the  case  of  the  king. 
The  princes  sent  word  that  they  were  coming ;  and 
presently  a  small  bullock-cart  made  its  appearance. 


DELHI:    RETRIBUTION  3  39 

The    princes    were    in    it,    and    behind   came  some 
3000  armed  retainers. 

Hodson  allowed  the  cart  to  come  up  to  his  line, 
ordered  the  driver  to  move  on,  and  then  formed 
up  his  troop,  by  a  single,  quick  movement,  between 
the  cart  and  the  crowd.  The  troopers  advanced  at 
a  walk  upon  the  crowd,  that  fell  sullenly  and  re- 
luctantly back.  Hodson  sent  on  the  cart  containing 
the  princes  in  charge  of  ten  of  his  men,  while  he 
sternly,  and  step  by  step,  pressed  the  crowd  back 
into  the  enclosure  surrounding  the  tomb ;  then, 
leaving  his  men  outside,  Hodson,  with  Macdowell 
and  four  troopers,  rode  up  the  steps  into  the  arch, 
and  called  on  the  crowd  to  lay  doAvn  their  arms. 
"  There  was  a  murmur,"  says  Macdowell,  who  tells 
the  story.  "  He  reiterated  the  command,  and  (God 
knows  why,  I  never  can  understand  it !)  they  com- 
menced doing  so."     He  adds  : — 

Now,  you  see,  we  didn't  want  their  ai-ms,  and  under 
ordinary  circumstances  would  not  have  risked  our  lives 
in  so  rash  a  way.  But  what  we  wanted  was  to  gain 
time  to  get  the  princes  away,  for  we  could  have  done 
nothing,  had  they  attacked  us,  but  cut  our  way  back, 
and  very  little  chance  of  doing  even  this  successfully. 
"Well,  there  we  stayed  for  two  hours,  collecting  their 
arms,  and  I  assure  you  I  thought  eveiy  moment  they 
would  rush  upon  us.  I  said  nothing,  but  smoked  all 
the  time,  to  show  I  was  unconcerned  ;  but  at  last,  when 
it  was  all  done,  and  all  the  arms  collected,  put  in  a 
cart,  and  started,  Hodson  turned  to  me  and  said,  '••  We'll 


340    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

go  now,"  Very  slowly  we  mounted^  formed  up  the 
troop,  and  cautiously  departed,  followed  by  the  crowd. 
We  rode  along  quietly.  You  will  say,  why  did  we  not 
charge  them  ?  I  merely  say,  we  were  one  hundred 
men,  and  they  were  fully  6000.  I  am  not  exagger- 
ating ;  the  official  reports  will  show  you  it  is  all  true. 
As  we  got  about  a  mile  off,  Hodson  turned  to  me  and 
said,  "Well,  Mac,  we've  got  them  at  last";  and  we 
both  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  Never  in  my  life,  under 
the  heaviest  fire,  have  I  been  in  such  imminent  danger. 
Everybody  says  it  is  the  most  dashing  and  daring  thing 
that  has  been  done  for  years  (not  on  my  part,  for  I 
merely  obeyed  orders,  but  on  Hodson's,  who  planned 
and  carried  it  out). 

Hodson  and  Macdowell  quickly  overtook  the  cart 
carrying  the  princes,  but  a  crowd  had  gathered 
round  the  vehicle,  and  pressed  on  the  very  horses 
of  the  troopers.  "  What  shall  we  do  with  them  ? " 
said  Hodson  to  his  lieutenant.  Then,  answering  his 
own  question,  he  added,  "  I  think  we  had  better 
shoot  them  here.  We  shall  never  get  them  in  ! " 
And  Hodson  proceeded  to  do  that  daring,  cruel, 
much-abused,  much-praised  deed. 

He  halted  his  troop,  put  five  troopers  across  the 
road,  in  front  and  behind  the  cart,  ordered  the 
princes  to  strip ;  then,  taking  a  carbine  from  one 
of  his  troopers,  he  shot  them  with  his  own  hand, 
first,  in  a  loud  voice,  explaining  to  his  troopers  and 
the  crowd  who  they  were,  and  what  crimes  they 
had   done.      The   shuddering   crowd   gazed   at    this 


DELHI:    RETRIBUTION  341 

tiill,  stern,  iiitlcxiblc  sahib,  with  his  flowing  beard, 
white  face,  and  deep  over-mastering  voice,  shooting 
one  by  one  their  princes ;  but  no  hand  was  hfted 
in  protest. 

Hodson  showed  no  hurry.  He  made  the  doomed 
princes  strip,  that  the  act  might  seem  an  execution, 
not  a  murder.  He  shot  them  with  his  own  hand, 
for,  had  he  ordered  a  trooper  to  have  done  it,  and 
the  man  had  hesitated,  a  moment's  pause  might 
have  kindled  the  huge  swaying  breathless  crowd 
to  llame. 

Critics  in  an  overwhelming  majority  condemn 
Hodson's  act.  Roberts,  whose  judgment  is  mildest, 
says  his  feeling  is  "  one  of  sorrow  that  such  a 
brilliant  soldier  should  have  laid  himself  open  to 
so  much  adverse  criticism."  Hodson  himself  wrote 
on  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  "  I  made  up  my 
mind  at  the  time  to  be  abused.  I  was  convinced 
I  was  right,  and  when  I  prepared  to  run  the  great 
physical  risk  of  the  attempt  I  was  ecpially  game 
for  the  moral  risk  of  praise  or  blame.  These  have 
not  been,  and  are  not,  times  when  a  man  who 
would  serve  his  country  dare  hesitate  as  to  the 
personal  consequences  to  himself  of  what  ho  thinks 
his  duty." 

Perhaps,  however,  liodson  was  scarcely  a  cool 
judge  as  to  what  "duty"  might  be  in  such  a  case. 
The  outrages  which  accompanied  the  Mutiny  liad 
kindled  his  fierce  nature  into  a  flame.     "  If  ever  I  get 


342    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

into  Delhi,"  he  had  said,  Aveeks  before,  "  the  house 
of  Tiinour  won't  be  worth  five  minutes'  purchase!" 
Hodson's  "  five  minutes "  proved  inadequate ;  but, 
writing  afterwards,  on  the  very  day  he  shot  the 
princes,  he  recorded,  "  In  twenty-four  hours  I  dis- 
posed of  the  principal  members  of  the  house  of 
Timour  the  Tartar.  I  am  not  cruel,  but  I  confess  I 
did  rejoice  in  the  opportunity  of  ridding  the  earth 
of  these  ruffians." 

Macdowell  writes  the  epitaph  of  the  princes :  "  So 
ended  the  career  of  the  chiefs  of  the  revolt  and  of 
the  greatest  villains  that  ever  shamed  humanity." 

The  bodies  were  driven  into  Delhi  and  cast  on  a 
raised  terrace  in  front  of  the  Kotwallee.  Cave- 
Browne,  who  Avas  chaplain  to  the  forces  at  the  time, 
comments  on  the  curious  fact  that  this  was  the  very 
spot  where  the  worst  crimes  of  the  princes  had  been 
committed.  "  It  was,"  he  says,  "  a  dire  retribution  ! 
On  the  very  spot  where,  four  months  ago,  English 
women  and  children  had  suffered  every  form  of  in- 
dignity and  death,  there  now  lay  exposed  to  the  scoff 
and  scorn  of  the  avenging  army,  three  scions  of  the 
royal  house,  who  had  been  chief  among  the  fiends  of 
Delhi." 

The  story  of  the  siege  of  Delhi  is  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  chapters  in  the  history  of  war.  The  besieg- 
ing army  never  amounted  to  10,000  men;  it  some- 
times sank  below  5000.  For  weeks  the  British  had 
thus   to    face   an    enemy    exceeding    themselves   in 


DELHI:    RETRIBUTION  343 

number  sometimes  by  a  ratio  of  ten  to  one,  and 
with  an  overwhelming  superiority  of  artillery.  They 
fou'^iit  no  fewer  than  thirtv-two  battles  with  the 
enemy,  and  did  not  lose  one  1  For  three  months 
every  man,  not  sick,  in  the  whole  force  had  to  be 
under  arms  every  day,  and  sometimes  both  by  night 
and  day.  The  men  were  scorched  by  the  heat  of  the 
sun,  wasted  with  dysentery  and  cholera,  worn  out 
with  toil. 

A  new  and  strange  perplexity  was  added  to  the 
situation  by  the  fact  that  many  of  the  native  troops 
on  the  Ridge  were  notoriously  disloyal.  The  British 
officers  sometimes  ran  as  much  danger  of  being  shot 
by  their  own  troops  behind  them  as  by  the  Sepoys 
in  front.  Early  in  July  the  4th  Sikhs  Avere  purged 
of  Hindustanis,  as  these  could  not  be  trusted. 
General  Barnard  had  to  abandon  one  plan  of  assault 
on  Delhi,  because  at  the  last  moment  he  discovered 
a  conspiracy  amongst  the  native  soldiers  in  the  camp 
to  join  the  enemy.  The  strength  of  the  force  was 
sapped  by  sickness  as  well  as  by  disloyalty. 

On  August  31,  for  example,  out  of  under  11,000 
men  2977  were  in  hospital.  Of  their  total  effective 
force,  nearly  4000 — or  two  out  of  every  five — were 
killed,  or  died  of  wounds  received  in  battle.  Yet 
they  never  lost  heart,  never  faltered  or  murmured  or 
failed.  And  after  twelve  weeks  of  such  a  struiJLrle, 
they  at  last  stormed  in  open  day  a  strong  city,  with 
walls  practically  unbreachcd,  and  defended  by  30,000 


344    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

revolted  Sepoys.     This  is  a  record  never  surpassed, 
and  seldom  paralleled,  in  history  ! 

Months  afterwards,  Lawrence,  looking  from  the 
Ridge  over  the  scene  of  the  long  and  bloody  struggle, 
said  to  his  companion  with  a  sigh,  "  Think  of  all  the 
genius  and  bravery  burlod  here ! "  The  environs  of 
Delhi,  the  reverse  slope  of  that  rocky  crest  from 
which  the  British  guns  thundered  on  the  rebel  city, 
are  indeed  sown  thick  with  the  graves  of  brave  men 
who  died  to  maintain  the  British  Empire  in  India. 


CHAPTER  XI II 

THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW 

With  the  fall  of  Delhi  the  tale  of  the  Great 
Mutiny  practically  ends.  Lucknow,  it  is  true, 
remained  to  be  captured.  The  broken  forces  of  the 
mutineers  had  to  be  crushed  in  detail.  A  new  system 
of  civil  administration  had  to  be  built  up.  The 
famous  Company  itself  vanished — the  native  pro- 
phecy that  the  raj  of  the  Company  would  last  only 
a  hundred  years  from  Plassey  thus  being  curiously 
fulfilled;  and  on  September  i,  1858 — less  than  a  year 
after  Delhi  fell — the  Queen  was  proclaimed  through- 
out India  as  its  Sovereign.  ]i)Ut  Hodson,  who  in 
addition  to  being  a  great  soldier  had  a  wizard-like 
insit^ht  into  the  real  meanins^  of  events,  was  riirht 
when,  on  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  the  British 
flag  was  hoisted  once  more  over  the  royal  palace  at 
Delhi,  he  wrote  in  his  journal:  "This  day  Avill  be  a 
memorable  one  in  the  annals  of  the  empire.  The 
restoration  of  British  rule  in  the  East  dates  from 
September  20,  1857." 

Yet  there  would  be  a  certain  failure  in  the  dramatic 
completeness  of  the   story  Avere  it  to  end   leaving 

Lucknow  in  the  hands  of  the  rebels.     The  tale  of 

345 


34^        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

the  storming  of  the  capital  of  Oude  must  be  added 
as  a  pendant  to  that  other  great  siege  which  planted 
the  British  flag  on  the  walls  of  Delhi. 

There  was,  in  a  sense,  no  "siege"  of  Lucknow  by 
the  British.  There  was  no  investment,  no  formal 
approaches,  no  zigzag  of  trenches.  It  was  a  storm, 
rather  than  a  siege — though  the  fighting  stretched 
from  March  2  to  March  21,  1858.  But  it  was  the  last 
of  the  great  military  operations  of  the  campaign 
which  crushed  the  Mutiny.  The  fall  of  the  city 
left  the  historic  revolt  Avithout  a  centre.  The  war, 
henceforth,  always  excepting  the  brilliant  campaign 
of  Sir  Hugh  Rose  in  the  Central  Provinces,  became 
a  guerilla  campaign ;  a  campaign  of  jDotty  sieges,  of 
the  hunting  down  of  one  Sepoy  leader  after  another, 
of  the  rout  of  this  petty  body  of  mutineers,  or  of  that. 
It  is  curious  to  note  how  great  civilians  and  great 
soldiers  differed  in  judgment  as  to  the  policy  of 
undertaking  the  recapture  of  Lucknow  at  that  par- 
ticular moment.  Colin  Campbell's  strategy  was  to 
conduct  a  cool  campaign  in  the  hills  of  Rohilcund, 
and  leave  Lucknow  alone  for  the  present.  That  city 
would  serve  as  a  sort  of  draining  ground,  a  centre 
into  which  all  the  mutineers  would  flow ;  and 
when  cool  weather  came,  Campbell,  imprisoning 
Lucknow  in  a  girdle  of  converging  columns,  would 
destroy  or  capture  the  mutineers  in  one  vast  "  bag." 
This  was  leisurol}^  and  wary  strategy ;  but  it  over- 
looked the  political  elements    in  the    problem.      It 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  347 

was  the  scheme  of  a  soldier  rather  than  of  a 
statesman.  Lucknow,  left  for  months  undisturbed, 
would  be  a  signal  of  hope  for  every  revolted  chief 
and  mutinous  Sepoy.  It  might  well  take  the  place 
of  Delhi  as  the  brain  and  heart  of  the  Mutiny. 
It  would  be  a  sign  to  all  India  that  the  British  did 
not  feel  themselves  strong  enough,  as  yet,  to  strike 
at  the  centre  of  the  rebel  power. 

The  civilian  was  wiser  than  the  soldier,  and  Lord 
Canning's  views  prevailed.  But  it  is  worth  noting 
that  Colin  Campbell's  plan  of  "bagging"  all  the 
mutineers  with  one  vast,  far-stretching  sweep  in 
Lucknow  would  have  been  carried  into  effect  on 
Lord  Canning's  lines,  but  for  a  double  blunder,  which 
marked  Campbell's  own  conduct  of  the  siege. 

It  Avas  a  great  task  to  which  the  Britisli  Com- 
mander-in-chief now  addressed  himself.  Lucknow 
was  a  huge  honeycomb  of  native  houses  ;  a  city  more 
than  twenty  miles  in  circumference,  with  a  turbu- 
lent population  calculated  variously  at  from  300,000 
to  1,000,000  people.  It  had  a  garrison  of  130,000 
fighting  men,  with  an  overwhelming  force  of  artillery. 
Tlie  Sepoy  leaders,  too,  who  knew  the  value  of  the 
spade  in  war,  had  spent  months  in  making  the  city, 
as  they  believed,  impregnable.  Both  Ilavelock  and 
Colin  Campbell,  in  fighting  their  way  to  the  Residency, 
had  broken  into  the  city  from  the  eastern  front ;  and 
the  Sepoys,  with  a  touching  simplicity,  took  it  for 
granted  that  the  third  attack  on  the  city  would  follow 


348   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

tlie  lines  of  the  earlier  assaults.  Tiie  British,  that  is, 
would  cross  the  canal,  and  force  a  path  to  the  Resi- 
dency through  the  great  gardens  and  stately  buildings 
which  occupied  the  space  betwixt  the  mass  of  the 
city  and  the  Goomtee ;  and  they  accordingly  barred 
this  approach  by  a  triple  line  of  formidable  defences. 
The  first  was  a  vast  flanked  rampart,  on  the  inner 
side  of  the  canal,  and  to  which  the  canal  served  as 
a  wet  ditch.  The  second  was  a  great  circular  earth- 
work, like  the  curve  of  a  railway  embankment, 
which  enclosed  the  Mess-house.  Behind  it  rose  what 
was,  in  fact,  the  citadel  of  Lucknow,  the  Kaisarbagh, 
or  King's  Palace.  Both  these  lines  stretched  from 
the  river  on  one  flank,  to  the  mass  of  houses  which 
constituted  the  town,  on  the  other  flank.  They 
might  be  pierced,  they  could  not  be  turned  ;  and.they 
bristled  from  flank  to  flank  with  heavy  guns.  The 
third  line  was  a  stupendous  earthwork,  covering  the 
whole  north  front  of  the  King's  Palace.  Its  guns 
swept  the  narrow  space  betwixt  the  palace  and  the 
river  with  their  fire. 

Each  great  building  along  this  line  of  advance 
was  itself  a  fortress,  and  everything  which  ingenuity 
could  suggest,  and  toil  execute,  had  been  done  to 
make  the  defence  formidable.  The  task  of  fighting 
a  Avay  across  these  triple  lines,  and  through  this 
tangle  of  fortified  houses,  each  girdled  with  rifle- 
pits,  and  loopholed  from  foundation  to  roof,  might 
well  have  been  deemed  impossible. 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKXOW  349 

In  the  previous  November  Colin  Campbell  had 
rescued  the  garrison  of  the  Residency ;  l)ut  he  was 
compelled  to  surrender  Lucknow  itself  to  the  rebels. 
With  great  wisdom  and  audacity,  however,  he  clung 
to  the  Alumbagh,  planting  Outram  there,  with  a  force 
of  about  4000  men.  The  Alumbagh,  thus  held,  was  a 
sort  of  pistol  levelled  at  the  head  of  Lucknow,  or  a  spear 
threatening  its  heart.  It  was  a  perpetual  menace; 
a  sign  that  the  British  still  kept  their  hold  of  the 
revolted  city,  and,  on  some  bloody  errand  of  revenge, 
would  speedily  return  to  it.  The  task  of  holding  a 
position  so  perilous  exactly  suited  Outram's  cool  brain 
and  serene  couracfe.  He  had  nothini>-  of  Nicholson's 
tempestuous  valour,  or  of  Hodson's  audacious  dar- 
ing. He  lacked  initiative.  The  temper  which  made 
Nelson,  at  Copenhagen,  put  the  telescope  to  his  blind 
eye,  when  his  admiral  was  trying  to  call  him  off  from 
the  fight,  was  one  which  Outram  could  hardly  have 
understood ;  and  it  was  a  temper  which  certainly 
never  stirred  in  his  own  blood.  But,  given  a  definite 
task,  Outram  might  be  trusted  to  do  it  with  perfect 
intelligence,  and,  if  necessary,  to  die  cheerfully  in  the 
doinc^  of  it. 

For  three  months  he  held  that  perilous  post  in 
front  of  Lucknow,  a  tiny  handful  of  troops  bearding 
a  great  revolted  city,  with  a  garrison  of  100,000  fight- 
ing men.  He  was  attacked  on  front  and  rear  and 
flank,  and,  more  than  once,  with  a  force  of  over  60,000 
men.     No  less  than  six  great  attacks,  indeed,  can  bo 


3  50        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

counted.  But  Outram  held  his  post  with  exquisite 
skill  and  unshaken  valour.  His  troops  were  veterans ; 
his  officers  were  fighters  of  unsurpassed  quality. 
Brasyer  commanded  his  Sikhs;  Barrow  and  Wale 
led  his  scanty  squadrons  of  horse ;  Vincent  Eyre, 
Olpherts,  and  Maude,  commanded  his  guns.  With 
such  troops,  and  such  leaders,  Outram,  for  more 
than  three  months,  held  his  daring  post  in  front  of 
Lucknow,  and  beat  back,  with  vast  loss  of  life,  the 
attacks  hurled  upon  him.  And  the  Alumbagh, 
thus  victoriously  held,  served  as  a  screen,  behind 
which  Campbell's  forces  gathered  for  the  leap  on 
Lucknow. 

Colin  Campbell  was  happily  delivered  from  the 
evil  condition  which  had  hitherto  fettered  all  the 
operations  of  the  British.  He  was  not  required  to 
attempt,  with  a  handful  of  men,  the  task  of  a  great 
army.  He  had  under  his  hands  the  finest  fighting 
force  any  British  general  in  India  had  yet  com- 
manded, an  army  of  31,000  men,  with  164  guns.  Of 
these,  9000  were  Ghoorkas — the  Ncpaulese  contin- 
gent under  Jung  Bahadur.  It  was  late  in  reaching 
the  field,  and  Campbell  doubted  whether  he  ought 
to  wait  for  the  Ghoorkas.  But  here,  again,  the 
civilian  proved  wiser  than  the  soldier.  "  I  am  sure," 
wrote  Lord  Canning,  "  we  ought  to  wait  for  the  Jung 
Bahadur,  who  would  be  driven  wild  to  find  himself 
deprived  of  a  share  in  the  work."  It  was  a  political 
gain  of  the  first  order  to  show  the  greatest  fighting 


LIEUTENANT-GENERAL  SIR  JAMES  OUTRAM,  Bakt..  G.C.B. 
From  a  painting  by  Thomas  BrigSTOCKE 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  35  I 

prince  in  India  arrayed  under  the  British  flag  against 
the  Mutiny. 

Hope  Grant,  with  the  present  Lord  Roberts  as  his 
A.A.G.,  commanded  the  cavalr}^;  Archdale  Wilson 
the  guns ;  Napier — afterwards  of  Magdala  fame — 
the  engineers.  Outram,  Lugard,  and  Walpole  com- 
manded the  three  infantry  divisions.  It  was  a  fine 
army,  admirably  officered  and  led,  and  made  a  perfect 
fighting  machine.  And  of  all  Campbell's  generals, 
no  one,  perhaps,  served  him  better  than  did  Robert 
Napier.  He  supplied  the  plan  of  attack,  which  made 
the  Sepoy  defences  worthless,  and  enabled  Lucknow 
to  be  carried,  practically,  in  fourteen  da3's,  and  at  a 
loss  of  only  125  officers  and  men  killed,  and  less  than 
600  wounded. 

The  east  front,  which  was  to  be  attacked,  resembled, 
roughly,  a  boot  laid  on  its  side.  A  great  canal,  run- 
ning north  and  south,  is  the  sole  of  the  "  boot " ;  the 
river  Goomtee  curves  round  the  toe,  and,  running 
back  sharply  to  the  south,  defines  the  top  of  the  foot, 
and  stretches  up  to  what  may  be  described  as  the 
ankle.  The  road  across  the  Dilkusha  bridge  pierces 
the  centre  of  what  we  have  called  the  "  sole,"  and 
the  triple  line  of  Sepoy  defences  barred  this  line  of 
approach.  Napier's  plan  was  to  bridge  the  Goomtee, 
pass  a  strong  force,  with  heavy  guns,  in  a  wide  sweep 
round  the  "toe"  of  the  boot,  on  the  northern  Itank 
of  the  river.  The  heavy  guns,  when  placed  in  posi- 
tion on  the  north  bank,  would  take  in  reverse  all  the 


3  52        THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 


J 


Sepoy  defences,  and  smite  with  a  direct  and  over- 
whelming fire  the  chief  positions — the  Mess-house, 
the  Secundrabagh,  and  the  Residency,  &c.,  which  the 
Sepoys  held.  The  Sepoy  generals  had  constructed 
no  defences  on  the  north  bank  of  the  river,  though 
it  was  strongly  held  by  the  rebel  cavalry.  Outram 
was  to  command  the  force  operating  from  the  north 
bank  of  the  river.  When  his  guns  had  swept  the 
Sepoy  defences  from  Hank  to  flank,  then  the  British 
left  would  advance,  cross  the  Dilkusha  bridge,  and 
fight  its  way  up  to  the  Kaisarbagh  and  the  Resi- 
dency, Outram,  with  his  flanking  gun-fire,  always 
pushing  ahead. 

The  British  right  and  left  were  thus  like  the  two 
blades  of  a  pair  of  scissors,  thrust  through  the  web  of 
the  Sepoy  defences ;  and  when  the  "  scissors  "  closed, 
those  defences  would  be  cut  clean  through  from  east 
to  west. 

Campbell  began  his  operations  on  the  morning  of 
March  3.  Forbes-Mitchell,  who  stood  in  the  ranks  of 
the  93rd,  looked  out  with  a  soldier's  eye  over  the 
domed  mosques  and  sky-piercing  minarets  of  the 
doomed  city,  sharp-cut  against  the  morning  sky.  "  I 
don't  think,"  he  writes,  "  I  ever  saw  a  prettier  scene." 
Forbes-Mitchell  was  not  an  artist,  only  a  hard- 
fighting  private  in  the  93rd;  but  Russell  of  the 
Times,  who  was  familiar  with  all  the  great  cities 
of  the  world,  was  just  ias  deeply  impressed  as  Forbes- 
Mitchell  with   the  aspect  that  Lucknow  wore  that 


THE   STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  353 

fateful  mornino",  when  the  red  tide  of  war  was  about 
to  fill  and  flood  its  streets.  This  is  how  Russell 
describes  the  scene:  "A  vision  of  palaces,  minarets, 
domes,  azure  and  golden,  cupolas,  colonnades,  long 
facades  of  fair  perspective,  in  pillar  and  column, 
terraced  roofs — all  rising  up  amid  a  calm,  still  ocean 
of  the  brightest  verdure.  Look  for  miles  and  miles 
away,  and  still  the  ocean  spreads,  and  the  towers  of 
the  fairy  city  gleam  in  its  midst.  Spires  of  gold 
glitter  in  the  sun.  Turrets  and  gilded  spheres  shine 
like  constellations.  There  is  nothing  mean  or  squalid 
to  be  seen.  Here  is  a  city  more  vast  than  Paris,  as  it 
seems,  and  more  brilliant,  lying  before  us." 

But  there  was  the  grim  face  of  war  hidden  beneath 
the  mask  of  smiling  beauty  which  Lucknow  presented 
that  March  morning.  The  soldiers,  as  they  stood  in 
their  ranks,  could  see,  line  beyond  line,  the  frowning 
Sepoy  defences ;  while,  in  the  foreground.  Peel,  with 
his  bluejackets,  was  getting  his  heavy  i6-pounders 
into  position  for  the  fierce  duel  about  to  begin.  Colin 
Campbell's  movement  on  his  left,  however,  was  but  a 
feint,  designed  to  mislead  the  enemy's  generals.  On 
the  night  of  the  4th  the  construction  of  two  bridges 
across  the  Goomtee  was  bei^'un.  On  the  morninc:  of 
the  5th  one  of  them  was  completed,  and  the  British 
infantr}'  crossed,  and  threw  up  earthworks  to  defend 
the  bridge-head.  By  midnight  on  the  5th  both 
bridges  were  complete,  with  their  approaches,  and  by 
four  o'clock  the  troops  were  crossing.    Hope  Grant,  in 


3  54   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

command  of  the  cavalry,  covered  tlieir  front,  and 
drove  back  the  enemy's  horse. 

The  Queen's  Bays,  a  young  regiment  that  had 
never  yet  been  engaged,  were  in  the  advance.  They 
got  out  of  hand  in  their  ardour,  and  rode  recklessly 
on  a  body  of  Sepoy  horse,  smashed  them  with  their 
charge,  followed  them  over -eagerly  into  broken 
ground,  and  under  heavy  gun-fire.  They  came  back 
broken  from  that  wild  charge,  their  major,  Percy 
Smith,  was  killed,  and  the  Bays  themselves  suffered 
badly. 

Outram,  meanwhile,  had  got  round  what  we  have 
called  the  "  toe "  of  the  boot,  and,  swinging  to  the 
left,  followed  the  curve  of  the  river  bank  till  a  point 
was  reached  which  took  the  first  line  of  the  Sepoy 
defences  beyond  the  river  in  reverse.  Twenty- two 
heavy  guns  had  been  brought,  by  this  time,  across 
the  river,  and  sites  were  chosen  for  two  powerful 
batteries.  Nicholson,  of  the  Engineers,  tells  how 
he  rode  with  Outram  to  the  river  bank,  to  choose 
the  position  of  the  first  battery.  "  Got  close,"  he 
Avrites,  "  to  the  end  of  the  enemy's  lines,  and  found 
we  could  see  into  the  rear  of  these  works.  Poor 
creatures !  They  have  not  a  grain  of  sense.  They 
have  thrown  up  the  most  tremendous  works,  and 
they  are  absolutely  useless."  A  stroke  of  clever 
generalship,  in  a  word,  had  turned  the  Sepoy  lines 
into  mere  paper  screens. 

A  building,  called  the  Chaker  Kothi,  or  Yellow 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  35  5 

House,  had  to  be  carried,  as  it  commanded  the  site  of 
one  of  the  batteries.  Most  of  the  Sepoys  holding  the 
building  fled  when  the  British  attacking  party  came 
on,  but  nine  of  them  stubbornly  clung  to  their  post, 
and  they  fired  so  fast,  and  with  so  deadly  an  aim, 
that  they  shot  down  more  than  their  own  number 
before  the  position  was  carried.  It  Avas  onl}-,  indeed, 
by  firing  salvos  from  a  troop  of  horse  artillery  that 
this  stubborn  little  sfarrison  was  driven  out  of  the 
building  at  last.  Then,  from  the  summit  of  the 
Yellow  House,  a  three-storey  building,  a  flag — one  of 
the  colours  of  the  Bengal  Fusileers — was  set  up,  a 
signal  to  the  British  left  wing  that  Outram's  batteries 
were  in  position. 

On  the  morning  of  the  9th,  Outram's  guns  opened 
on  the  first  line  of  the  Sepoy  defences,  that  to  which 
the  canal  served  as  a  wet  ditch,  with  a  fire  that  swept 
it  from  flank  to  flank.  Campbell  was  pouring  the 
fire  of  Peel's  guns  upon  the  Martinere,  which  served 
as  a  sort  of  outwork  to  the  long  canal-rampart,  and 
at  two  o'clock  the  Highland  regiments — the  42nd 
leading,  the  93rd  in  support — were  launched  on  the 
enemy's  position.  The  men  of  the  93rd  were  too 
impatient  to  be  content  with  "supporting"  the  42nd, 
and  the  two  regiments  raced  down  the  slope  side 
by  side.  Earthworks,  trenches,  rille-pits  were  leaped 
or  clambered  over,  and  almost  in  a  moment  the 
Sepoys  were  in  wild  flight  across  the  canal.  The 
Highlanders,  with  the  4th  Punjaub  Rifles,  followed 


3  5^         THE    TALE    OF    THE    GREAT    MUTINY 

them  eagerly,  and  broke  througli  the  enemy's  first 
Ime. 

Outram's  first  battery,  as  we  have  said,  was  sweep- 
ing this  Kne  with  a  cruel  flank  fire.  The  Sepoys 
had  been  driven  from  their  guns  in  the  batteries 
that  abutted  on  the  river,  and  they  seemed  to  be 
deserted.  Adrian  Hope's  men  were  attacking,  at 
that  moment,  the  farther,  or  southern,  end  of  the 
line;  and  Butler,  of  the  ist  Bengal  Fusileers,  with 
four  privates,  ran  down  to  the  bank  of  the  river 
and  tried  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  British 
left,  some  third  of  a  mile  distant ;  but  in  vain.  The 
river  was  sixty  yards  wide,  the  current  ran  swiftly, 
the  farther  bank  was  held  by  Sepoy  batteries ;  and 
though  no  Sepoys  could  be  seen,  yet  it  might  well 
be  that  scores  were  crouchino-  under  its  shelter. 
Butler,  however,  with  the  ready  daring  of  youth, 
threw  off  his  coat  and  boots,  scrambled  down  the 
river  bank,  plunged  into  the  stream  and  swam 
across  it.  He  climbed  up  the  farther  bank,  mounted 
the  parapet  of  the  abandoned  work,  and,  standing 
there,  waved  his  arms  to  the  distant  Highlanders. 
It  was  not  a  very  heroic  figure !  His  wet  uniform 
clung  to  his  limbs,  the  water  was  running  down  hair 
and  face.  The  Sepoys  nigh  at  hand,  opened  a  sharp 
fire  upon  him.  But  still  that  damp  figure  stood 
erect  and  cool,  showing  clear  against  the  sky-line. 

Butler  was  seen  from  the  British  left,  and  the 
meaning   of    his   gestures   understood ;    but    a   staff 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  3  57 

officer,  with  more  punctiliousness  than  common 
sense,  objected  to  the  troops  moving  along  the  line 
till  orders  had  been  received  to  that  effect.  So  a 
brief  delay  occurred.  Still  that  damp  figure  stood 
aloft,  shot  at  from  many  points,  but  vehemently 
L^o-nallino'.  Now  the  Hi<dilanders  and  Sikhs  came 
eagerly  on,  and  Butler,  having  handed  over  to  them 
the  battery  which,  wet  and  unarmed,  he  had  cap- 
tured, scrambled  down  into  the  river,  and  swam 
back  to  rejoin  his  regiment.  It  was  a  gallant 
feat,  and  the  Victoria  Cross,  which  rewarded  it,  was 
well  earned. 

That  night  the  British  were  content  with  holding 
the  enemy's  first  line.  On  the  loth  Campbell,  who, 
for  all  his  hot  Scottish  temper,  was  the  wariest  and 
most  deliberate  of  generals,  was  content  with  pushing 
Outram's  batteries  still  farther  up  the  north  bank, 
so  as  to  command  the  Mess-house  and  the  Begum's 
Palace.  On  the  left,  the  building  known  as  Banks' 
House  was  battered  with  artillery,  and  carried.  The 
two  blades  of  the  scissors,  in  a  word,  had  been  thrust 
far  up  into  the  cit}',  and  now  they  were  to  be  closed ! 
Betwixt  the  positions  held  to  the  right  and  to  the  left, 
stood  the  great  mass  of  buildings  known  as  the  Begum 
Kothi,  the  Begum's  Palace.  This  was  strongly  held, 
and  the  fii^ht  Avhicli  carried  it  was  the  most  stubborn 
and  bloody  of  the  whole  operations  of  the  siege. 

The  guns  played  fiercely  upon  it  for  hours  ;  b}' 
the    middle    of  the   afternoon  a   slight   breauh  had 


3  5S        THE    l^ALE    OF    ^rHE    GREAT    MUTINY 

been  effected,  and  it  was  resolved  to  assault.  Forbes- 
Mitchell  says  that  the  men  of  the  93rd  were  finish- 
ing their  dinner  when  they  noticed  a  stir  amongst 
the  staff  officers.  The  brigadiers  were  putting  their 
heads  together.  Suddenly  the  order  was  given  for 
the  93rd  to  "  fall  in."  "  This  was  quietly  done, 
the  officers  taking  their  places,  the  men  tighten- 
ing their  belts,  and  pressing  their  bonnets  firmly 
on  their  heads,  loosening  the  ammunition  in  their 
pouches,  and  seeing  that  the  springs  of  their  bayonets 
held  tight."  A  few  seconds  were  spent  in  these 
grim  preparations,  then  came  the  sharp  word  of 
command  that  stiffened  the  whole  regiment  into 
an  attitude  of  silent  eagerness.  The  Begum's  Palace 
was  to  be  rushed. 

It  was  a  block  of  buildings  of  vast  size  and 
strength.  The  breach  was  little  more  than  a  scratch 
in  the  wall  of  the  gateway,  which  it  needed  the 
activity  of  a  goat  to  climb,  and  which  only  British 
soldiers,  daringly  led,  would  have  undertaken  to 
assault  in  the  teeth  of  a  numerous  enemy.  And 
there  were  nearly  5000  Sepoys  within  that  tangle 
of  courts !  The  storming  party  consisted  of  the 
93rd  and  the  4th  Punjaub  Rifles,  led  by  Adrian 
Hope.  The  93rd  led,  the  Punjaubees  were  in  sup- 
port, and  the  rush  was  fierce  and  daring.  It  is  said 
that  the  adjutant  of  the  93rd,  McBean,  cut  down 
with  his  own  sword  no  less  than  eleven  of  the 
enemy,  in    forcing    his    way    through    the  breach ; 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  359 

and  lie  won  the  Victoria  Cross  by  his  performance. 
He  was  an  Inverness  ploughman  when  he  enlisted 
in  the  93rd,  and  he  rose  through  all  its  ranks  until 
he  commanded  the  regiment. 

Captain  M'Donald  was  shot  dead  while  leading  his 
men.  His  senior  lieutenant  took  the  company  on, 
until  the  charging  crowd  was  stopped  by  a  ditch 
eighteen  feet  wide,  and  from  tw^elve  to  fourteen  feet 
deep.  The  stormers  leaped,  with  hardly  a  pause,  into 
the  ditch,  but  it  seemed  imj)ossible  to  climb  up  the 
farther  bank.  Wood,  of  the  Grenadier  company,  how- 
ever, clambered  on  the  shoulders  of  a  tall  private, 
and,  claymore  in  hand,  mounted  the  farther  side. 
The  spectacle  of  a  Highland  bonnet  and  menacing 
claymore,  making  its  appearance  above  the  ditch, 
proved  too  much  for  the  Se|)oys.  They  fled,  and 
Wood  pulled  up  man  after  man  by  the  muzzle  of 
his  rifle — the  rifles,  it  may  be  mentioned  as  an  in- 
teresting detail,  Avere  all  loaded,  and  on  full  cock ! 
Highlanders  and  Punjaubees,  racing  side  by  side,  had 
now  broken  into  the  great  palace.  Ever}^  doorway 
was  barred  and  loopholed,  and  the  Sepoys  fought 
desperately;  but  the  Highlanders,  wdth  the  Punjau- 
bees in  generous  rivalry,  broke  through  barrier  after 
barrier,  till  they  reached  the  inner  square,  filled  with 
a  mass  of  Sepoys.  "  The  word,"  Forbes-Mitchell  says, 
was  "  keep  well  together,  men,  and  use  the  bayonet," 
and  that  order  was  diligently  obeyed.  The  combat 
raged  for  over  two  hours,  the  pipe-major  of  the  93rd 


360   THE  TALE  OF  THE  GKEAT  MUTINY 

blowing  his  pipes  shrilly  during  the  Avhole  time.  "  I 
knew,"  he  said  afterwards,  "  our  boys  would  fight  all 
the  better  while  they  heard  the  bagpipes."  When 
the  main  fight  was  over,  in  the  inner  court  of  the 
Begum's  Palace,  alone,  over  860  of  the  enemy  lay 
dead.  Colin  Campbell  himself  described  it  as  "  the 
sternest  struggle  which  occurred  during  the  siege." 

That  most  gallant,  but  ill-fated  soldier,  Adrian 
Hope,  personally  led  one  of  the  storming  parties.  It 
is  said  that  he  got  in  through  a  window,  up  to  which 
he  was  lifted,  and  through  which  he  was  pushed  by 
his  men.  He  was  sent  headlong  and  sprawling  upon 
a  group  of  Sepoys  in  the  dark  room  inside.  That 
apparition  of  the  huge,  red-headed  Celt  tumbling 
upon  them,  sword  and  pistol  in  hand,  was  too  much 
for  the  Sepoys,  and  they  fled  without  striking  a  blow ! 

Perhaps  the  most  gallant  soldier  that  perished 
within  the  blood-splashed  courts  of  Begum  Kothi 
was  Hodson,  of  "  Hodson's  Horse."  Kobert  Napier 
tells  the  story  of  how,  when  he  was  in  the  act  of 
reconnoitring  the  breach,  he  found  Hodson  suddenly 
standing  beside  him,  and  saying,  laughingly,  "  I  am 
come  to  take  care  of  you."  The  two  watched  the 
rush  of  the  stormers  up  the  breach,  and  listened 
to  the  sound  of  the  fierce  tumult  within  the  walls. 
Presently,  arm  -  in  -  arm,  they  quietly  climbed  the 
breach,  and  found  the  last  embers  of  the  conflict  still 
spluttering  within.  Napier  was  called  away  by  some 
duty  and  Hodson  went  forward  alone. 


THK    STORMING    OF    LU(  KNOW  36 1 

At  the  back  of  tliu  mosque  ran  a  narrow  lane, 
bordered  by  rooms  in  Avhicli  many  of  the  flying 
Sepoys  had  found  shelter.  Forbes-Mitchell  says 
they  had  broken  open  the  door  of  one  of  these  rooms, 
and  saw  it  was  crowded  with  Sepoys.  He  placed 
some  of  his  party  on  each  side  of  the  door,  and  sent 
back  two  men  to  the  breach  to  i^at  a  fcAV  batjs  of  "-un- 
powder,  with  slow  matches  fixed,  intending  to  light 
one  of  these  and  liing  it  into  the  room,  by  Wciy  of 
summarily  clearing  out  the  Sepoys.  At  that  moment 
Hodson  came  quickly  up,  sword  in  hand.  "AVhere 
are  the  rebels  ? "  he  demanded  grimly.  Forbes- 
Mitchell's  narrative  runs  :  "  I  pointed  to  the  door  of 
the  room,  and  Hodson,  shouting, '  Come  on,'  Avas  about 
to  rush  in.  I  in^iplored  him  not  to  do  so,  saying 
'  It's  certain  death ;  wait  for  the  powder ;  I've  sent 
men  for  powder-bags.'  Hodson  made  a  step  forward, 
and  I  put  out  my  hand  to  seize  him  by  the  shoulder 
to  pull  him  out  of  the  line  of  the  doorway,  when  he 
fell  back,  shot  through  the  chest.  He  gasped  out  a 
few  words,  either,  '  Oh,  my  wife,'  or  '  Oh,  my  mother ' 
— I  cannot  now  rightly  remember — but  was  im- 
mediately choked  by  blood." 

Colonel  Gordon-Alexander,  who  took  part  in  the 
assault,  and  saw  Hodson  come  on  the  scene,  gives  a 
similar  account  of  the  manner  in  which  Hodson 
received  his  wound ;  but  it  illustrates  the  unrelia- 
bility of  human  testimony  to  notice  how  he  and 
Forbes-Mitchell,  who  were  both  actors  in  the  tragedy, 


362    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

flatly  contradict  each  otlier  from  this  point.  Gordon- 
Alexander  says  that  a  man  of  his  company,  whom  he 
had  sent  over  to  warn  Hodson,  "  never  stopped,  but 
ran  in  at  the  door  and  pinned  the  man  who  had  shot 
Hodson,  with  his  bayonet,  before  he  had  time  to 
reload.  There  was  only  one  other  Sepoy  in  the 
doorway,  and  he  was  bayoneted,  too."  Forbes-Mitchell 
says  that  after  Hodson  had  been  carried  off,  the  bags 
of  powder,  with  slow  matches  in  them,  were  brought 
up.  "  These  we  lit,  and  then  pitched  the  bags  in 
through  the  door.  Two  or  three  bags  very  soon 
brought  the  enemy  out,  and  they  were  bayoneted. 
One  of  the  93rd,  a  man  named  Rule,  rushed  in 
among  the  rebels,  using  both  bayonet  and  butt  of  his 
rifle,  shouting,  '  Revenge  for  Hodson  ! '  and  he  killed 
more  than  half  the  men  single-handed."  But,  ac- 
cording to  Gordon- Alexander,  there  were  only  two 
Sepoys  in  the  room,  and  no  powder-bags  were  neces- 
sary to  drive  them  out ! 

Hodson  was  a  soldier  of  real  genius,  but  was  pur- 
sued through  life,  and  to  his  very  grave,  by  a  swarm 
of  baseless  calumnies.  When  he  was  buried,  Colin 
Campbell  himself  stood  by  the  grave,  and,  as  the 
coffin  of  the  dead  soldier  sank  from  sight,  the  British 
commander-in-chief  burst  into  tears.  Those  tears, 
rolling  down  the  cheeks  of  so  great  and  fine  a  soldier, 
are  Hodson's  best  vindication  and  memorial. 

Meanwhile,  some  other  formidable  buildings — the 
Secundrabngh,   the   Shah    Nujeef,   &c. — had    fallen, 


THE    STUUMING    OF    LUCKNUW  363 

almost  without  resistance,  into  the  hands  of  the 
British.  Outram  was  steadily  pushing  on  along  the 
northern  bank,  and  scourging  Avith  his  flank  fire  each 
position  the  Sepoys  held.  The  12th  and  the  13th 
were  employed  by  the  engineers  in  pushing  on  a  line 
of  advance  throu^'h  the  houses,  to  the  left  of  the 
main  road,  thus  avoiding  the  fire  of  the  Sepoys.  On 
the  morning  of  the  14th  the  Imambarah,  a  mass 
of  minarets,  flat  roofs,  and  long,  ornamental  frontage, 
was  stormed  by  Brasyer's  Sikhs.  Outram,  by  this 
time,  had  seized  the  iron  bridge  to  the  west  of  the 
Residency.  He  was  in  a  position  to  cork  the  neck 
of  the  bottle,  that  is,  and  to  make  flight  impossible 
for  the  great  mass  of  the  Sepoys.  But  this  splendid 
position  was  thrown  away  by  the  first  of  the  two 
great  blunders  which  mar  Colin  Campbell's  conduct 
of  the  siege. 

Outram  asked  permission  to  force  the  bridge,  and 
take  the  Sepoys,  still  holding  the  Kaisarbagh  and 
the  Residency,  in  the  rear.  Campbell  consented,  but 
forbade  him  crossing,  if,  in  the  process,  he  would  lose 
a  single  man.  Now,  the  bridge  was  held  in  force  by 
the  Sepoys,  and  guarded  by  a  battery,  and  to  force 
it  would  necessarily  risk  many  lives.  But  war  is  a 
business  of  risks,  and  the  gain  beyond  was  enormous. 
A  soldier  like  Nicholson,  or  Neill,  or  Hodson.  would 
have  interpreted  Campbell's  order  generously ;  or 
thev  would  have  stormed  the  bridge  without  orders, 
and  would  have  trusted  to  the  justitication  which 


364    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

success  always  gives.  But  Outram  was  of  a  less 
audacious  type.  An  order,  to  him,  was  sacrosanct. 
He  made  no  attempt  to  cross  tlie  bridge,  but  looked 
on,  while  the  defeated  Sepoys  streamed  past  in 
thousands,  escaping  to  the  open  country,  there  to 
kindle  the  fires  of  a  costly  guerilla  warfare. 

The  preparations  to  pass  the  bridge,  it  may  be 
added,  were  marked  by  fine  valour  on  the  part  of 
one  of  Outram's  engineers.  Outram  himself  had,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  operations,  thrown  a  barricade 
across  the  bridge,  to  prevent  the  Sepoys  crossing. 
When,  in  turn,  he  himself  had  to  force  his  way 
across,  it  was  necessary  to  remove  this  barricade,  and 
to  do  it  in  broad  daylight,  and  under  a  fierce  and 
sustained  fire  from  the  Sepoys.  Wynne,  of  the 
Engineers,  and  a  sergeant  named  Paul,  undertook 
the  perilous  task.  They  crept  forward,  crouching 
under  the  parapet  of  the  bridge ;  then,  kneeling 
down,  they  removed  one  sand-bag  after  another  from 
the  barricade,  passing  each  bag  back  along  the  line  of 
men,  from  hand  to  hand.  But,  as  the  level  of  the 
barricade  sank,  the  two  gallant  engineers  were  ex- 
posed more  fully  to  the  Sepoy  nuiskets.  The  fire 
was  furious.  Yet  Wynne  and  his  companion  coolly 
pulled  down  the  barricade,  bag  by  bag,  till  the  lowest 
tier  was  reached,  and  then  ran  back  unharmed. 

Meanwhile,  events  elsewhere  had  moved  too  fast 
for  the  British  commander-in-chief  Brasyer's  Sikhs, 
with  some  companies  of  the  loth  Foot,  had  stormed 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  365 

the  Iniambarah.  The  flying  Sepoys  took  refuge  in 
the  next  and  strongest  of  all  the  Sepoy  works,  the 
citadel  of  the  whole  defence,  the  Kaisarbagh,  a  blaze 
of  gilded  spires,  cupolas  and  domes,  all  turned  into 
a  vast  fortification.  The  Sikhs  and  the  loth  followed 
vehemently  and  closely,  while  some  of  the  men  of 
the  90th,  led  by  young  Havelock,  carried  a  palace 
close  to  the  Kaisarbagh,  from  which  they  commanded 
three  of  its  bastions.  They  opened  on  them  a  fire 
so  deadly  that  the  Sepoys  fled  from  their  guns.  The 
engineers  wished  to  stay  any  further  attack ;  the  pro- 
gramme for  the  day  was  exhausted,  and,  in  Colin 
Campbell's  leisurely  tactics,  nothing  further  was 
meant  to  be  done  that  day. 

But  the  stormers  were  eager;  Sikhs  and  High- 
landers alike  had  the  fire  of  victory  in  their  blood. 
They  clambered  through  an  embrasure,  and  forced 
their  way  into  the  Kaisarbagh,  Havelock  running 
back  and  bringing  up  some  companies  of  the  loth 
Foot.  Brasycr  pushed  out  beyond  the  Kaisarbagh, 
indeed,  to  the  ^less- house.  Franks  and  Xapier 
brought  up  new  troops,  and  the  Kaisarbagh  itself 
was  swept  from  end  to  end. 

All  the  wealth  of  India  seemed  to  have  been 
gathered  within  that  great  mass  of  gilded  walls,  and 
all  this  was  now  given  up  to  mad  and  wasteful 
plunder.  The  men,  to  use  Russell's  phrase,  were 
''  drunk  with  plunder."  They  literally  waded  through 
court  after  court,  piled  high  with  embroidered  cloths, 


366    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

gold  and  silver  brocade,  arms  rougli  with  jewels, 
shawls  heavy  with  gold,  banners,  cloaks,  joictures, 
vases.  The  men  had  the  wealth  of  kings  under  their 
feet! 

It  was  a  day  of  great  deeds.  Two  successive  lines 
of  defensive  works,  vast  as  railway  embankments, 
garrisoned  by  an  army,  and  backed  by  a  great 
citadel,  had  been  carried  in  succession.  And  yet  the 
chief  military  gain  of  this  great  feat  was  lost,  owing 
to  Colin  Campbell's  absurd  order,  which  held  Outram 
back  from  carrying  the  iron  bridge,  and  enabled  the 
flying  Sepoys  to  escape  in  thousands,  to  relight  the 
flame  of  war  throughout  the  whole  of  Gude. 

It  is  amusing  to  know  that  Colin  Campbell  was 
at  first  disgusted,  rather  than  delighted,  with  the 
daring  rush  which,  with  such  indecent  and  unscien- 
tific haste,  carried  the  Kaisarbagh.  He  is  said, 
indeed,  to  have  sent  orders  to  Franks  to  evacuate 
the  great  post.  Franks,  however,  was  both  a  fine 
soldier  and  a  hot-blooded  Irishman,  and  he  declined, 
in  the  bluntest  form  of  speech,  to  give  up  the  great 
stronofhold  his  men  had  carried  with  a  dash  so 
brilliant. 

Campbell's  imagination,  it  seems,  was  haunted  by 
the  sense  that  each  Sepoy  position,  when  it  was 
carried,  was  an  abandoned  powder-magazine,  packed 
thick  with  the  possibilities  of  dreadful  explosions. 
And  facts  justified  that  uncomfortable  belief.  The 
story  of  one  such  fatal  explosion  may  be  briefly  told. 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKNOW  367 

In  the  Jiimma  Musjid  no  less  than  nine  cart-loads 
of  gunpowder  were  discovered.  The  powder  was 
packed  in  tin  cases,  and  it  was  resolved  to  destroy 
it  by  flinging  the  cases  down  a  well.  A  line  of  men 
was  formed,  and  the  cases  passed  quickly  from  hand 
to  hand.  The  first  case  flung  down  struck  against 
the  side  of  the  well,  and  exploded.  The  flame  ran 
from  case  to  case  along  the  whole  line  till  it  reached 
the  carts.  The  cases  in  the  very  hands  of  the  men 
exploded,  the  nine  cart-loads  went  off  in  one  terrific 
blast  of  flame  and  sound,  and,  with  one  exception, 
the  whole  party — numbering  twxnty-two  men,  with 
two  engineer  officers  in  command — was  killed.  The 
only  man  who  escaped  was  the  one  that  threw  that 
fatal  first  case  down  the  well ! 

When  the  Kaisarbagh  and  the  Mess-house  fell, 
and  the  third  line  of  Sepoy  defences  was  thus 
carried,  Lucknow  Avas  practically  in  the  British 
power.  But  on  the  next  day,  March  15,  Colin  Camp- 
bell, war}^  and  war-wise  soldier  though  he  was,  com- 
mitted a  second  blunder,  which  helped  to  rob  the 
success  of  some  of  its  best  fruits.  He  realised  the 
blunder  he  committed  when  he  held  back  Outram, 
and  to  remedy  it  he  perpetrated  a  further  mistake. 
He  despatched  his  two  cavalry  brigades  in  pursuit 
of  the  flying  Sepoys,  and  despatched  them  on  the 
wrong  roads.  The  absence  of  the  cavalry  created  a 
huge  gap  in  the  British  lines  on  the  north  of  the 
Goomtee,  and  a  great  body  of  Sepoys,  said  to  be  more 


368    THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

than  20,000  strong,  escaped  through  it  unharmed. 
"  In  this  way,"  says  Lord  Roberts,  "  the  campaign, 
which  should  then  have  come  to  an  end,  was  pro- 
tracted for  nearly  a  year  by  the  fugitives  spreading 
themselves  over  Oude,  and  occupying  forts  and  other 
strong  positions,  from  which  they  were  able  to  offer 
resistance  to  our  troops  till  the  end  of  May  1859; 
thus  causing  needless  loss  of  thousands  of  British 
soldiers."  That  is  a  severe  condemnation  to  be 
written  by  one  great  soldier  on  another. 

Brigadier  Campbell,  with  a  strong  body  of  horse 
and  guns,  hovered  outside  the  Musabagh,  ready  to 
cut  up  the  Sepoys  when  Outram  had  driven  them 
out  of  that  building.  For  some  mysterious  reason, 
and  to  the  open  disgust  of  the  whole  British  army, 
he  failed  to  cut  up  the  flying  Sepoys.  It  was,  for  his 
command,  a  day  of  inertness  and  failure ;  yet  it  was 
lit  up  by  one  splendid  dash  of  personal  daring.  A 
small  nuid  fort  covered,  at  one  point,  the  road  along 
which  the  Sepoys  were  flying,  and  Campbell  sent 
forward  a  party  of  cavalry  —  a  troop  of  the  7th 
Hussars  and  a  squadron  of  Hodson's  Horse,  with  two 
guns — to  clear  the  Sepoys  out  of  it.  The  guns  flung 
a  couple  of  shells  over  the  walls  of  the  fort,  and  it 
had  the  effect  of  a  match  flung  into  a  beehive  !  The 
bees  flew  out,  eager  to  sting!  Some  fifty  rebels, 
headed  by  the  village  chief,  a  giant  in  size,  suddenly 
rushed  from  the  gate  of  the  fort  on  the  guns.  They 
were  upon  the  Hussars  before  they  could  be  put  in 


THE    STORMING    OF    LUCKXOW  369 

motion  to  charge,  and  the  three  troop  officers  were 
in  an  instant  struck  down.  A  chister  of  the  Sepoys 
bent  over  one  of  the  three,  Banks,  slashing  and 
thrusting  at  him,  when  Hcgart,  in  command  of  the 
Hussars,  rode  single-handed  to  his  rescue. 

He  broke  through  the  group,  shooting  right  and 
left  with  his  revolver,  wheeled  and  dashed  through 
them  again.  He  had  shot  three,  and  knocked  over  a 
fourth  with  the  hilt  of  his  SAVord,  when  two  Sikhs 
galloped  up  to  his  aid,  and  Banks  was  saved,  only  to 
die  of  his  Avounds  a  few  days  later.  When  Hegart 
emerged  from  the  fight  everything  he  had  about 
him,  says  Hope  Grant,  bore  traces  of  his  gallant 
struggle.  His  saddle  and  his  horse  were  marked 
with  sword-slashes,  his  sword-hilt  was  dinted,  his 
martingale  was  cut,  the  silk  pocket  handkerchief 
with  which  his  sword  was  tied  to  his  wrist  was 
severed  as  cleanly  as  with  a  razor. 

The  capture  of  Lucknow,  in  a  space  of  time  so 

brief,   and  at   a  cost  so  slight,  was  due   in  part,  of 

course,  to  the  splendid  leadership  of  the  officers  and 

the  daring  of  the  men.     But  it  was  due,  in  even 

greater  measure,  to   the  skill  of  the  engineers.     It 

was  an  engineer's  plan  that  sent  Outram,  with  his 

heavy  guns,  across  the  Goomtec,  round  the  "toe"  of 

the  boot,  and  so  took  the  lines  of  the  Sepoys  in 

reverse.      It   was   clover   enoincerino-,   aofain,    which 

broke  a  way  for  the  advance  of  the  British  left  wing 

through  the  houses  to  the  left  of  the  great  road. 

2  A 


Z7<^        THE  TALE  OF  THE  GREAT  MUTINY 

The  Sepoys  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  the 
advance  of  the  British  would  be  up  that  road,  and 
they  had  turned  it  into  a  Valley  of  Death.  Every 
parapeted  housetop  that  looked  down  on  the  road 
was  crowded  with  muskets.  The  road  itself  was 
merely  a  double  line  of  crenellated  walls,  inaccessible 
to  scaling  ladders,  swept  by  grape  and  case-shot  from 
every  cross  street,  pelted  by  musketry  from  every 
mosque  roof  and  palace  gable,  and  raked  from  end  to 
end  with  the  fire  of  great  guns.  But  all  these  elabo- 
rate and  terrible  defences  were  made  useless  by  the 
fact  that  the  British  engineers  tore  a  road  for  their 
advance  through  the  houses  to  the  left  of  the  great 
road,  until  the  Kaisarbagh  itself  was  reached  and 
seized.  The  whole  siege,  indeed,  is  a  lesson  in  the 
value  of  science  in  war.  Brains  count  for  more,  in 
such  a  struggle,  than  even  bullets. 

The  Residency  itself  fell  with  almost  ludicrous 
tameness.  Oatram,  on  the  i6th,  forced  his  way 
across  the  Iron  Bridge,  and  the  Residency,  though 
crowded  with  Sepo3'S,  was  yielded  with  scarcely  a 
musket  shot  being  fired  in  defence.  The  position 
which  the  Sepoys  tried,  in  vain,  for  more  than  eighty 
days  to  carry,  was  taken  by  the  British  in  less  than 
as  many  minutes ! 

Lucknow  did  not  fall,  however,  without  one  eccen- 
tric and  highly  illogical  flash  of  valour  being  shown 
by  the  Sepoys.  'J'he  Moulvie  of  Fyzabad  was  the 
most  obstinate  and  daring  of  the  leaders  thrown  up 


0<> 


'  Map  of  S 

NORTHERN   INDIA 

showing  distribution  of  troops  on  ist.  May  1857. 


200 


BRITISH     NATIVE 

0  8  Caualnj  Regiment 

□  B  Infantry  Regiment 

a  m  Infantry  Company 

D  9  /I  rtiltery 

•  Raitmnj  Grand  Trunk  Road 


o%  Detachment 
A  Mutinied 
M  Disarmed 


't. Everest      /  ''^  — ,  ^      , 

29,002"         \  ("Cholamu  ^• 

Kanchanjanga 

/   27.8^5' 


'Darjeeling,  V 
,  Julpitcoreel^ 


C 

Kuch^Behar 


Cf,,j.{5'"f^,»e#^'-^i 


rakpur Poi'^^S^    V     ^ 

Mano'ar  Hill     §^  '^  >       *\_, 


Eowseeo_^^^4-^N      ^M 
Roll  nee  o     ^<^i?  ^ 

v-eKarhabarj^:;j^ 


'  Nas"?rabad)  >'' 


sliidabad 


'od 


baglu 


ngarh 


B'ehainpcjif, 
Janeeganp 


,      Manipur. ) 


^^'S  /.iqs/ia' / fe 


CO 


Pooinleea 


CComiliah^ 


asa 


am 


.Mic 


W'///s 


•ChiUago^g 


,  Balasor 


M^oMmmB^  N  G  4 


?3\   Arakan 


00 


Walker  &  Cockerel!  sc. 


THE    STORMING    OF    LTJCKNOW  3/1 

by  the  great  Mutiny.  He  was  a  soldier,  indeed,  who, 
on  the  Sepoys'  side,  rivals  Tantia  Topee  himself  lur 
generalship ;  while,  for  personal  daring,  he  leaves  the 
Nana's  general  hopelessly  behind.  The  Moulvie  had 
made  his  escape  from  Lucknow,  but  in  a  niood  of 
sudden  wrath,  turned  his  face  towards  the  city  again. 
He  returned,  and  occupied  a  strong  building,  from 
which  he  was  only  expelled  with  much  hard  fighting 
by  the  93rd  and  the  4th  Punjaub  Infantry.  The 
fight  was  hopeless  from  the  outset ;  the  city  had 
fallen,  further  resistance  was  a  mere  idle  waste  of 
life.  Yet  the  Sepoys  showed  a  more  desperate 
courage  in  this  combat  than  at  any  other  point 
throughout  the  siege.  For  so  much  does  the  in- 
fluence of  one  brave  man  count ! 


INDEX 


Abbott,  Major,  37  et  seq. 
Adye,  247 
Agra,  17G 

Aikman,  Lieutenant,  331,  332 
Aitken,  Lieutenant,  163,  207,  234 
Ajnieer  Gate,  Delhi,  317 
Alexander,  6G,  67 
Alison,  241,  251,  254,  256 
Allahabad,  108,  125,  254  ;  revolt, 

65  ;  mutineers  march  to  Delhi, 

6Q  ;    treasury    plundered,    69  ; 

Neill  arrives  from  Benares  at, 

70,  75  ;  retribution,  77 
Alumbagh,  7,  236,  240  ;  storming 

of  the,  194  ;  Outram  holds  the, 

349,  350 
Anderson,  Captain,  164,  171 

,  Major,  1S2 

Anson,   General,    210,    272  ;    his 

death,  273 

,  Major,  236 

Aong,  village  of,  130 

Arnold,  Captain,  200,  208 

Arrah,  7 

Arrapore,  126 

Ashe,    Lieutenant,    98    ct     scq., 

118 
Attock,  rlrcr,  295 
Azimoolah  (Nana  Sahib's  Prime 

Minister),  88 


Bahadur,  Jung,  350 


Bailey  Guard  Gate,  Lucknow, 
162,  168,  185,  202,  204,  234 

Balaclava,  317 

Bala  Kao  (the  Nana's  general), 
13S,   141 

Banks,  ]\rajor,  148  ;  succeeds  Sir 
H.  Lawrence  at  Lucknow,  169; 
his  death,  l8l 

Banks,  Mr.,  369 

liarnard,  Sir  Heniy,  38,  265,  281, 
343 ;  siicceeds  to  the  chief  com- 
mand in  India,  273  ;  gains  the 
Eidge  at  Delhi,  274  ;  reinforced 
by  Daly  with  the  Guides,  278  ; 
illness,  282  ;  his  death,  287 

Barrackpore  revolt,  1 

Barrow,  125,  195,  350 

Batt3'e,  Quentin,  27i»,  2s0 

Baugh,  Lieutenant,  1 

Beatson,  Stuart,  125,  128 

Becher,  John,  296 

Beebeeghur  at  Cawnport-,  mas- 
sacre in  the,  139  ct  ifq.  ;  in- 
scrij^tion  on  the  site  of  the,  147 

Begum's  Palace,  Lucknow,  357, 
358,  3t)0 

Belinda.  126 

Beloochees,  the,  297 

Benares,  outbreak  at,  67  ;  Neill 
arrives  at,  72  ;  nmtiueers  pun- 
ished, 74 

Bertrand,  Father,  309 


373 


374 


INDEX 


Birch,  Captain,  173,  184 

Bithoor,  palace  of,  11)1 

road,  201 

Blunt,  Major,  219 

"Bob  the  Nailer,"  174 

Bourchier,  Captain,  260 

Bowden,  117 

Branston,  INIajor,  230 

Bi'asyer,  Lieutenant,  G8  et  scq. ; 
at  the  storming  of  Lucknow, 
350,  3G3,  304 

Brendish,  52 

Brind,  Colonel,  304 

Buckley,  Conductor,  41  et  scq. 

Bukr,  Abool,  46 

Bunnee  Bridge,  240 

Buntera,  211 

Burgess,  Corporal,  313 

Burn  Bastion,  at  Delhi,  317  ;  cap- 
ture of,  329  et  scq. 

Burton,  Major,  79  ct  scq. 

Bussarat  Gunj,  battles  at,  188, 
191 

Butler,  Lieutenant,  at  the  assault 
on  Delhi,  318,  319;  at  the 
storming  of  Lucknow,  356,  357 

Cabul,  301 

Cabul  Gate  at  Delhi,  316,  322, 
330 

Calcutta,  72,  86,  124,  191,  238, 
260 

Calpee  Road,  Cawnpore,  245,  246, 
254,  2G0 

Campbell,  Brigadier,  368 

Campbell,  Colonel,  302  et  scq. 

,  Sir  Colin,  21,  346  ;  Luck- 
now and  Sir  Colin  Campbell, 
208-23G  ;  receives  the  chief 
command  in  India,  210  ;  ad- 
vances to  the  relief  of  Luck- 
now, 214  ;  in  communication 
with  the  garr'son,  218  ;  storm- 


ing the  Secundrabagh,  220  ; 
assault  of  the  Shah  Nujeef, 
229  ;  capture  of  the  Mess-house, 
233  ;  relieves  Lucknow,  234  ; 
meeting  with  Outram  and 
Havelock,  234  ;  at  Havelock's 
funeral,  236  ;  the  reti-eat  to 
Cawnpore,  240  ct  scq.  ;  defeats 
Nana  Sahib  and  the  Gwalior 
contingent,  260  ;  on  the  recap- 
ture of  Lucknow,  346,  347 ; 
holds  the  Alumbagh,  349,  350  ; 
the  storming  of  Lucknow, 
352-371  ;  at  Hodson's  funeral, 
362 
Campbell,  Sir  George,  48,  78 
Canning,  Lord,  (i<6,  73,  294  ;  on 
Lord  Lawrence,  270  ;  decides 
to  retain  Peshavvur,  272  ;  on 
the  recapture  of  Lucknow,  347, 


350 


,  Lady,  116,  124,  237 

Captan  Bazaar,  162 

Carmichael,  Sergeant,  313 

Carthew,  M.,  251 

Case,  Colonel,  158 

,  Mrs.,  159 

Cashmere  Gate,  Delhi,  36,  265, 
278,  281,  307  et  scq.  ;  the  mas- 
sacre at  the,  39  ;  the  Bastion 
of  the,  305,  306 

Cavanagh,  Paddy,  188 

Cave- Browne,  the  Reverend,  64, 
342 

Cawnpore,  massacre  of  refugees 
from  Futteghur,  59 

The  Siege,  84-110;  Wheeler's 

reassuring  telegram  to  Calcutta, 
86  ;  Nana  Sahib  receives  charge 
of  the  Treasury,  86  ;  Wheeler 
returns  reinforcements  sent 
from  Lucknow,  88  ;  bad  posi- 
tion   chosen    for   defence,    88 ; 


INDEX 


375 


the  outbreak,  90 ;  nmtineers 
start  for  Delhi,  91  ;  recalled 
by  Nana  Sahib,  92  ;  Wheeler's 
entrenchments  attack(;d,  93  ; 
the  two  Wells,  95,  105;  hos- 
pital barrack  takes  fire,  103  ; 
Wheeler  appeals  to  Lawrence, 
lOG  ;  Nana  Sahib  otl'er.H  terms 
of  surrender,  108  ;  capitulation 
of  the  garrison  arranged,  109  ; 
the  Nana's  general  organises 
the  ma&sacre,  110 

Cawnpore,  the  Murder  Ghaut,  111- 
147  ;  official  evidence  of  the  mas- 
sacre, Hi  ;  escape  of  one  of  the 
boats,  116;  survivors  confined 
in  the  Savada-house,  IIG  ;  re- 
lief force  organised  at  Calcutta, 
123 ;  Havelock's  advance  on 
Cawnpore  and  defeat  of  the 
Nana,  132  et  seq. ;  massacre  of 
the  captives  in  the  Beebeeghur, 
143 ;  memorial  to  the  victims, 
147 

Havelock  with  the  Lucknow 

relief  column  retires  on,  190 ; 
Sir  Colin  Campbell's  retreat 
from  Lucknow  to,  210  ;  Wind- 
ham commands  at,  243  ;  en- 
gages Tantia  Topee,  245 ;  defeat 
of  the  Nana  by  Sir  Colin  Camp- 
bell at,  2 GO 

Chaker  Kothi  (Yellow  House)  at 
Lucknow,  354,  355 

Chamberlain,  Major  Neville,  53, 
268  ;  commands  the  movable 
column,  54,  269  ;  discovers  a 
plot  at  Peshawur,  55  ;  on  the 
Ridge  at  Delhi,  286,  301  ;  at 
the  storming  of  Delhi,  327 

Chandin  Chouk  at  Delhi,  316 

Charbagh  Bridge,  196,  198 

Cheek,  Ensign  Arthur,  70 


Chinhut,  battle  of,  153,  156,  176 
Chutter  Munzil  Palace,  202 
Clarke,  Lieutenant,  32 
Clery,  Lieutenant,  164 
Clyde,  Lord,  7,  147 
"  Cock  of  the  North,"  the,  233 
Cooney,  Private,  173 
Cooper,  Ensign,  222 
Copenhagen,  battle  of,  349 
Corbett,  General,  56 
Craigie,  Lieutenant,  32 
Crowe,  Conductor,  41  ct  scq. 

Dalhousik,  Lord,  12,  16,  108 

Daly,  Captain,  with  the  Guides  at 
Delhi,  278,  280,  284 

Dawson,  Captain,  232 

Delafosse,  Lieutenant,  99,  117, 
119,  121 

Delhi,  34-64;  description  of,  34; 
mutineers  arrive  from  Meerut, 
35,  265  ;  massacre  at  the  Cash- 
mere Gate,  36  et  seq.  ;  flight  of 
survivors  to  Meerut,  40  ;  de- 
fence and  explosion  of  the  great 
magazine,  40  ct  scq.;  Allaha- 
bad mutineers  march  to,  66 

— —  How  the  Ridge  was  held,  7, 
9,  263-304  ;  Sir  Henry  Barnard 
gains  the  Ridge,  265  ;  arrival 
of  Nicholson  with  the  movable 
column,  272,  293  et  scq.  ;  rein- 
forced by  Daly  with  the  Guides, 
278  ;  plan  to  storm  the  city, 
28 1 ;  attacks  by  the  Sepoys, 
283  et  scq.;  the  battering-train 
arrives    and    the    siege    begins. 


—  The  leap  on  the  city,  305- 
330;  examining  the  breaches. 
305 ;  the  great  assault,  307  et 
seq.;  inside  the  city,  316  ;  the 
fall  of  Delhi,  329 


3/6 


INDEX 


Delhi,  retribution,  331-1)45  ;  cap- 
ture of  the  king's  palace,  332  ; 
the  king  made  prisoner  by 
Hodson,  334 ;  Hodson  shoots 
the  three  princes,  338-342 

Bank,  36,  330 

Gazette,  3G 

King  of,  19,  34,  42,  333,  334 

Dewan-i-khas,  Delhi  Palace,  333 

Dilkusha  Bridge,  Lucknow,  351, 
352 

Park,  Lucknow,  214 

Dinapore,  189 

Dobbin,  Sergeant,  222 

Donnelly,  Lance-Corporal,  223 

Doondoo  Punth.  See  under  Nana 
Sahib 

Dost  Mohammed,  271 

Drelincourt's  "Preparation  for 
Death,"  146 

East  India  Company,  345 

Edwardes,  Sir  Herbert,  10,  52, 
53,  55,  268,  294,  296  ;  opposes 
the  abandonment  of  Peshawur, 
271 

Edwards,  Sergeant,  41 

Elbe,  river,  271 

Ewart,  Colonel  (34th  Native  In- 
fantry), 112 

^Mrs.,  112 

Colonel  (93rd  Highlanders), 

at  the  storming  of  the  Secun- 
drabagh,  224  et  seq. 

Eyre,  Vincent,  192,  195,  350 

Farquhar,  50 

Fayrer,  Sir  Joseph,  51 ;  his  bro- 
ther's death,  52  ;  at  Lucknow, 
154,  159, 174,  178  ;  at  Chinhut, 
157 ;  attends  Sir  Henry  Law- 
rence, 169 

Finnis,  Colonel,  26,  46,  49 


Fischer,  Colonel,  51 

Fisher,  Mr.,  61 

Mrs.,  61 

Flagstaff  Tower  at  Delhi,  38,  276, 
283 

Forbes,  Arcliibald,  68,  125,  145, 
187,  188,  195,  202,  203,  223 

Forbes-Mitchell,  78 ;  with  Sir 
Colin  Campbell's  relief  force, 
212 ;  at  the  storming  of  the 
Secundrabagh,  220  et  seq.;  in 
the  assault  on  the  Shah  Nujeef, 
229  et  seq. ;  at  the  battle  of 
Cawnpore,  240,  257  ;  at  the 
recapture  of  Lucknow,  352- 
362 

Forest,  Lieutenant,  38,  41,  43 

•Franks,  Brigadier-General,  365, 
366 

Friend,  of  India,  124 

Fulton,  Captain,  garrison  engineer 
at  Lucknow,  182 ;  his  journal 
quoted,  182-184 

Mr.,  of  Melbourne,  182 

Futteghur,    civilians    take    flight, 

59  ;  their  murder  at  Cawnpore, 

60  ;  the  revolt  at,  60 
Futtehpore  outbreak,  78 ;  Tucker's 

defence,  79,  126  ;  battle  of,  128 
Fyzabad,  Moulvie  of,  370,  371 

Gabbett,  298 

Ganges,  river,  65,  75,  85,  114,  120, 

12,-,  185,  192,  239,  240,  253 
Gernion,  Captain,  164 
Glandell,  203 

Glanville,  Lieutenant,  100,  117 
G oldie,  Colonel,  139 

General,  59 

Gonne,  51 

Goomtee,    river,    162,    196,    216, 

232,  348  et  seq. 
Gordon,  329 


INDEX 


Z77 


Gordon- Alexander,   Colonel,    361, 

3G2 
Goulburn  Gaol,  Governor  of,  232 
Government      House,      Calcutta, 

238 
Grant,  Sir   Hope,    at  the  SecuM- 
drabagh,   222  ;  with  Sir  Colin 
Campbell    at    Cawnpore,    260, 
201  ;    on  the   llidge  at   Delhi, 
274,  282,  284  ;  at  the  storming 
of  Delhi,  314,  315,  332  ;  inter- 
views the  King  of  Delhi,  336, 
337  ;  at  the  recapture  of  Luck- 
now,  351,  353,  369 
Grant,  Sir  Patrick,  123 
Graves,  Brigadier,  38 
Graydon,  51 
Graydon,  Colonel,  321 
Greased  cartridges,  l.'J,  14 
Greathed,    W.,   255;    at    Delhi, 

S05,  311 
Greenaway,  1^0 
Greville,  Captain,  292,  319 
Gubbins,  Judge  Fredei'ick,  73 
,     Mr.,     Financial    Commis- 
sioner   at    Lucknow,    51,    154, 
164,  179,  181,  182 
Gwalior  contingent,   239,    244  ct 
seq. ;     crushed    by     Sir    Colin 
Campbell.  260 

Hamilton,  Colonel,  125,  187,  192 

Harding,  Captain,  164 

Hardinge,  Lord,  124 

Hare,  A.  J.  C,  "The  Story  of 
Two  Noble  Lives,"  237 

Harrison,  leading  seaman,  230 

Harrison,  Lieutenant,  118 

Harward,  Lieutenant,  66 

Hastings,  201 

Havelock,  Sir  Henry,  7,  21,  294, 
323,  347  ;  commands  Cawn- 
pore  relief  force,   123  ;  defeats 


the  Nana's  troops  at  Futteh- 
pore,  128  ;  advance  on  Cawn- 
pore,  132-i;)7;  bravery  of  hia 
son,  135,  200 ;  Lucknow  and 
Havelock,  184-208 ;  marches 
to  the  relief  of  Lucknow,  187  ; 
village  of  Onao  carried,  187  ; 
enemy  routed  at  Bussarat  Gunj, 
188  ;  retires  to  Cawnpore,  190  ; 
the  (juarrel  with  General  Neill, 

190  ;    asks  for  reinforcements, 

191  ;  destruction  of  the  Nana's 
palace,  191  ;  second  start  for 
Lucknow,  192  ;  retribution, 
193  ;  the  Alumbagh  carried, 
195  ;  relievtis  Lucknow,  205  ; 
meeting  with  Sir  Colin  Camp- 
bell, 234  ;  his  death  and  funeral, 
230  ;  reminiscence  by  Lady 
Canning,  238 

Havelock,  H.  (the  younger),  in  the 
advance  on  Cawnpore,  135, 
136  ;  with  the  Lucknow  relief 
force,  200,  230  ;  at  the  recap- 
ture of  Lucknow,  365 

Hay,  Captain,  321 

Hazara,  324 

Hearsey,  General,  5 

Hegart,  — 


•\I'A 


69 


Henderson,  Ensign,  100 

Hewitt,  General,  24,  30 

Hills,  Lieutenant,  V.C'.,  288-290 

Hindu  Rao's  house,  277  ct  scq. 

Hodson,  W.  (of  Hodson's  Horse), 
22,  282,  292,  345,  349.  363  ;  at 
Delhi,  279  ct  scq.  ;  at  the  storm- 
ing of  Delhi,  314,  315  ;  captures 
the  King  of  Delhi,  334-336; 
seizes  and  shoots  the  three 
princes,  4(),  338-342  :  death  at 
the  recapture  of  Lucknow,  360- 


36: 


Dr.,  207 


37^ 


INDEX 


Home,  Lieutenant,  305,  312 
Hope,    Adrian,    with    Sir    Colin 
Campbell  at  Lucknow,  23G  ;  at 
the  battle  of  Cawnpore,  255  ;  at 
the  recapture  of  Lucknow,  356, 
358,  360 
Hopkins,  Captain,  233 
Humayon's  Tomb,  334,  338 
Hutchinson,  George,  183 

Imajibahah  at  Lucknow,  363,  365 

Indian  Mutiny,  outbreak  at  Bar- 
rackpore,  1  ;  causes  of  the,  8  ci 
seq. ;  greased  cartridges,  13; 
chupatties,  17  ;  conspiracy  for 
simultaneous  revolt,  18,  47 ; 
revolt  at  Meerut,  23 

Delhi,  34-64  ;  defence  and 

explosion  of  the  great  magazine, 
40  et  seq. ;  how  the  Ridge  was 
held,  263-304  ;  the  leap  on 
the  city,  305-330;  the  great 
assault,  307  ct  seq.  ;  the  fall  of 
the  city,  329  ;  retribution,  331- 
345  ;  the  king  a  prisoner,  334  ; 
the  three  princes  shot,  328  et 
seq. 

■ estimated  number  of  British 

troops  available  and  of  the 
■  Sepoy  army,  48  ;  officers'  faith 
in  their  Sepoys,  50  ;  the  Pun- 
jaub  saved,  52  ;  doubtful  regi- 
ments disarmed,  formation  of 
the  Movable  Column,  54  ;  La- 
hore garrison  disarmed,  56  ; 
Chamberlain  disarms  the  garri- 
son at  Multan,  62  ;  outbreak  at 
Allahabad,  65,  76  ;  mutiny  at 
Benares,  73  ;  Futtehpore,  78  ; 
Kotah,  79 

■ Cawnpore,    the    siege,    84- 

110 ;     capitulation,     109 ;    the 
Murder  Ghaut,  111-147  ;  Have- 


lock's  advance  on  Cawnpore, 
132  ;  Sir  Colin  Campbell  defeats 
the  Nana  at,  260 
Indian  Mutiny,  Lucknow  and  Sir 
Henry  Lawrence,  148-184; 
Chinhut  disaster,  156  ;  the  siege 
begins,  167  ;  death  of  Sir  Henry 
Lawrence,  170  ;  Lucknow  and 
Havelock,  185-208  ;  Havelock's 
march  to  the  relief  of,  187  et 
seq.  ;  his  entry  into,  205  ;  Luck- 
now and  Sir  Colin  Campbell, 
209-236;  storming  of  the 
Secundrabagh,  220  ;  assault  on 
the  Shah  Nujeef,  229  ;  Luck- 
now relieved,  234  ;  the  Sepoy 
in  the  open,  237-262 ;  the 
retreat  to  Cawnpore,  240  et  seq. 

the    storming  of   Lucknow, 

345-371  ;  Outram  holds  the 
Alumbagh,  349-350  ;  death  of 
Hodson,  360-362  ;  the  Kaisar- 
bagh  carried,  365-367  ;  the  fall 
of  city,  370 

Indus,  river,  271 
Inglis,    Colonel,    148,    160,    167, 
180,  255 

Lady,   159,    160,   172,   175, 

206 

Innes,  172,  177 
Innes's  house,  162 

Jacob,  Major,  319 
Jakes,  Corporal,  200 
Jhansi,  Ranee  of,  8 
Jhelum,  river,  295 
Jhind,  Chief  of,  9 
"Jim  the  Rifleman,"  174 
Johannes'  house,  174 
Jones,  Mr.,  176 

Brigadier,  307,  316,  325 

Colonel,  333 

Jones-Parry,  228,  235 


INDEX 


379 


Jullunder,  48 

JiimmaMusjid,  3]  6,  ?>2i,  330,  3G7 

Jumna,  river,  Go,  276,  301 

Kaisakbagh  (King's  Palace)  at 
Lucknow,  191,  234,  348  ct  seq. 

Xandiel,  173 

Kavanagh,  T.  H.,  214  ct  scq. 

Kaye  and  !MalIeson'.s  "History 
of  the  Mutiny,"  8,  14,  IG,  119, 
222,  233,  255,  2G1,  313,  321 

Kiernan,  Sergeant  John,  198 

King's  Palace,  Delhi,  31G,  331 

Kipling,  Rudyard,  "  The  Lost 
Legion,"  G4 

Knox,  John,  2G6 

Kotah,  79 

Kotwallee,  Delhi,  842 

Kurnal,  273 

Kyber  Pass,  301 

Lahore,  53  ;  plot  discovered,  5G  ; 
garrison  disarmed,  57 

Lahore  Gate,  Delhi,  281,  307  et 
S€q. 

Lake,  Lord,  322 

Lamb,  315 

Lamont,  Serg.-Maj.  Alexander, 
197 

Lang,  Lieutenant,  305,  329,  330 

Langmore,  Lieutenant,  1G3 

Lawrence,  Lieutenant,  1G3 

George,  79,  1G8 

Sir  Henry,    IG,  52  ;    warns 

Wheeler  at  Cawnpore  not  to 
accept  terms  of  surrender,  lOG  ; 
Lucknuw  and  Sir  Henry  Lrw- 
rence,  148-184  ;  character,  151. 
264  ;  provisions  the  Residency, 
152,  263  ;  mortally  wounded, 
168  ;  dying  instructions,  1G9  ; 
death,  170 

Lawrence,  John   (Lord),    10  ;  on 


the  causes  of  the  Mutiny,  14, 
20;  on  Christian  missions,  18, 
53  ;  the  hero  of  Delhi,  2G5, 
300-301  ;  characteristics,  266 ; 
Chief  Commissioner  of  the 
Punjaub,  268  ;  anticipates  the 
Mutiny  and  disarms  Sepoys, 
2G9  ;  reinforces  the  besiegers  at 
Delhi,  303,  304 

Lawrence,  "Sam,"  177 

Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  14 

Leeson,  Mrs.,  82  et  seq. 

Lester,  General,  51 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  151 

Lind,  73 

Lisburn  parish  church,  323 

Lockhart,  303 

Longfield,  Brigadier,  307 

Longhnan,  Lieutenant,  163,  231 

Lowe,  Captain,  164 

Lucknow,  7,  9,  125 

and  Sir   Henry    Lawrence, 

148-184  ;  Residency,  148  it 
seq.,  349  ct  scq. ;  Chinhut 
disaster,  156  ;  Residency  de- 
fences, 162  ;  number  of  the  be- 
sieged, 165  ;  .'strength  of  the 
besiegers,  167  ;  the  siege  be- 
gins, 167;  standing  orders,  172  ; 
sorties,  172  ;  the  great  assault 
of  July  20th,  179  ;  mines  and 
countermines,  181 

and    Havelock,     185-208; 

the  relief  force  leaves  Cawn- 
pore, 187  ;  Havelock's  second 
start  from  Cawnpore,  192  ;  the 
Alumbagh  carried,  195  ;  Char- 
bagh  bridge  capHired,  200 ; 
death  of  Neill,  204;  Have- 
lock's column  reaches  the  Re- 
sidency, 205 

and    Sir    Colin    Campbell, 

209-236  ;    Sir  Colin  Cumpbel 


38o 


INDEX 


advances  to  the  relief  of  Luck- 
now,  214  ;  in  communication 
with  the  garrison,  218  ;  storm- 
ing the  Secundrabagli,  220  ; 
slaughter  of  Sepoys  in  the 
Secuiidrabagh,  227  ;  assault  on 
the  Shah  Nujeef,  229  ;  capture 
of  the  Mess-house,  233  ;  the 
garrison  relieved,  234  ;  evacvia- 
tion  of  the  Residency,  235  ; 
losses  of  the  garrison,  237  ; 
the  retreat  to  Cawnpore,  240  ; 
survivors  despatched  to  Alla- 
habad, 254 

Lucknow,  the  storming  of,  345- 
371  ;  Ontram  holds  the  Alum- 
bagh,  349-350;  death  of  Hod- 
son,  360-362  ;  the  Kaisarbagh 
carried,  365-3G7  ;  the  fall  of 
the  city,  370 

Ludlow  Castl-,  Delhi,  291 

Lugard,  351 

M'Bean,  Lieutenant,  233,  358 

M'Carthy,  Justin,  "  History  of 
our  own  Times,"  8 

M'Crae,  251 

M'Donaid,  Captain,  359 

M'Donough,  203 

Macdowell,  Major,  338  et  seq. 

Mackenzie,  Colonel,  31,  32 

MacKillop,  John  (captain  of  the 
Cawnpore  Well),  105,  106 

M'Manus,  Private,  207,  208 

Macnab,  Sir  Donald,  324 

Madras,  71 

Mansfield,  General,  261 

Mardan,  63,  294 

Margalla  Pass,  324 

Martinere  at  Lucknow,  355 

Maude,  Captain,  at  Allahabad, 
76  ;  in  the  advance  on  Cawn- 
pore,   125   et    scq. ;    with    the 


Lucknow  relief  column  under 
Havelock,  192  ct  scq.;  "Me- 
mories of  the  Mutiny,"  193  ; 
holding  the  Alumbagh,  350 

Meanmeer,  58 

Medley,  Lieutenant,  305-307 

Meecham,  235 

Meerut,  7,  47,  287,  325  ;  the 
revolt  at,  23  et  seq.  ;  mutineers' 
flight  to  Delhi,  28 

Melbourne,  232 

Mess-house  at  Lucknow,  233, 
349  et  seq. 

Metcalfe,  Sir  T.,  80 

Metcalfe  House,  Delhi,  291 

Mirza  Aboo  Bukir,  338 

Khejoo  Sultan,  338 

Mogul,  338 

Mogul,  Palace  of  the,  331 

Montgomery,  58 

Moore,  Captain,  at  the  siege  of 
Cawnpore,  97  et  seq.  ;  organises 
a  sally,  103  ;  confers  with  the 
Nana's  representatives,  108  ; 
death,  117 

Moore,  Mr.,  248 

Mootee  Munzil,  232 

Moradabad,  48 

Moree  Gate,  Delhi,  316 

Mullahpore,  51 

Multan,  61,  62 

Mungul  Pandy,  1  et  seq. 

Mungulwagh,  village,  193 

Murphy,  Private,  117,  121 

Murray,  Scrg. -Major,  223 

Musabagh,  at  Lucknow,  368 

Mutchee  Bhawan  at  Lucknow, 
160,  161 

Nadirek  Regiment,  122 

Nana  Sahib  (Sureek  Dhoondoo 
Punth)  of  Bithoor,  8  ;  murder 
of  refugees  from  Futteghur,  60  ; 


INDEX 


381 


receives  charge  of  the  Cawn- 
pore  Treasury,  80 ;  his  ambition, 
92  ;  persuades  mutineers  to  re- 
turn to  Cavvnpore,  92  ;  attacks 
Wheeler's  entrenchments,  93  ; 
offers  him  terms  for  surrender, 
108 ;  organises  the  Cawnpore 
massacre,  110;  the  massacre, 
111  et  seq.  ;  defeated  by  Have- 
lock  at  Futtehpore,  128;  routed 
at  the  battle  of  Cawnpore,  134  ; 
orders  the  murder  of  the  cap- 
tives in  the  Beebeegiiur,  139; 
a  fugitive,  147;  his  palace  at 
Bithoor  destroyed  by  Have- 
lock,  191  ;  with  the  Gwalior 
contingent,  214  ;  fight  with 
Windham,  245  ;  defeated  by 
Sir  Colin  Campbell,  261 

Napier  of  Magdala,  Lord,  276  ; 
at  the  recapture  of  Lucknow, 
351,  860,  3G5 

Naples,  332 

Napoleon  Buonaparte,  271 

Neill,  General,  3G3  ;  at  Allaha- 
bad with  his  "  Lambs,"  70  ; 
lands  at  Calcutta  and  advances 
to  Benares,  72  ;  punishes  the 
mutineers,  74  ;  advances  to 
Allahabad,  75  ;  retribution, 
77;  vengeance  at  Cawnpore, 
14(j  ;  holding  Cawnpore,  185  ; 
the  quarrel  with  Havelock, 
190  ;  on  the  march  to  Luck- 
now,  192  et  scq.  ;  death  at  the 
Kaisarbagh,  191,  204 

Nelson,  Lord,  349 

Nepaulese  contingent,  350 

Nicholas,  Czar,  293 

Nicholson,  John,  53-55,  265, 
268,  269,  349,  363  ;  commands 
the  Movable  Column,  55  ;  over- 
takes the  55th  Native  Infantry, 


'        03  ;    at  Delhi,  293  ;  character- 

294  ;  disperses  the  Sepoys  at 
Mardan,  294 ;  overtakes  tiie 
mutineers  at  the  Fords  of  Ravi, 

295  ;  worship  of  "  Nikkul- 
Seyn "  by  the  natives,  290, 
324  ;  defeats  the  Delhi  army 
at  Nutjutghur,  298 ;  remini- 
scence of,  301-302  ;  leading  the 
stormers  at  Delhi,  310,  325 ; 
mortally  wounded,  321,  322  ; 
death,  323 

Nicholson,  354 

Nikkul-Seynees,  sect  of,  296,  324 

Norman,  301 

,  Captain,  234 

North  Curtain  at  Lucknow,  163 
Nutjutghur,  battle  of,  2*^7 

Olpherts,  W,,  at  Benares,  73  ; 
in  Havelock's  advance  on 
Lucknow,  191,  102;  at  the 
capture  of  the  Alumbagh, 
"Hell-fire  Jack,"  195  ;  hold- 
ing the  Alumbagh,  350 

Onao,  village,  187 

Outram,  Sir  James,  125,  185, 
323  ;  joins  Havelock's  column, 
191;  wounded,  1!^7  ;  enters 
Lucknow,  205  ;  in  communica- 
tinn  with  Sir  Colin  Campbell, 
21  I  ;  meeting  with  Sir  Colin 
Campbell,  2:53  ;  at  Havelock's 
funeral,  236  ;  holds  the  Alum- 
bagh, 349-350  ;  at  the  storming 
of  Lucknow,  351  ct  scq. 

Ovenden,  311 

Palmkr,  Colonel,  1G(\  163 

Paudo,  river,  245 

Pandoo  Nuddee,  riiitltt,  130, 138, 

143 
Panmure,  Lord,  210 


382 


INDEX 


Paris,  353 

Paton,  Sergeant  John,  231 

Pattalia,  Chief  of,  9 

Paul,  Sergeant,  3G4 

Pearl  Palace  at  Lncknow,  231 

Peel,  William,  211  ;  at  the  storm- 
ing of  the  Shah  Nujeef,  229  et 
seq. ;  at  Havelock's  funeral, 
23G  ;  in  the  retreat  to  Cawn- 
pore,  253  ;  at  the  battle  of 
Cawnpore,  257  ;  at  the  recap- 
ture of  Lucknow,  353,  355 

Peshawur  council  of  war,  53  ;  gar- 
rison disarmed,  55  ;  Lord  Can- 
ning's decision  to  hold,  271-272 

Phillips,  Ensign,  311 

Ponsonby,  Brigadier,  73  ct  scq. 

Poonah,  Peishwa  of,  91 

Punjaub,  268  ct  seq.,  297 

Quixote,  Don,  151 

Raikes,  15G,  296 

Pajpootana,  48 

Rampart  Road,  Delhi,  316 

Raneegange,  72 

Ravi,  fords  of,  295 

Raynor,  Lieutenant,  41 

Redan  at  Lucknow,  163 

Reed,  General,  271,  283,  287,  300 

Reegan,  Private,  292 

Rees,  176,  177 

Reid,   Major,    on    the    Ridge   at 

Delhi,  278-2S3  ;    in   the  great 

assault    on    Delhi,    307,    317  ; 

wounded,  314 
Renaud,  Major,  125,  128,  130 
Reveley,  39 
Rhine,  river,  271 
Ridge  at  Delhi,  7,  9,  263-304 
Ripley,  Colonel,  37 
Roberts,  Earl,  on  the  outbreak  at 

Meerut,  33  ;  at  the  council  of 


war  in  Peshawur,  53  ;  dis- 
arming the  Sepoys,  56  ;  at  the 
storming  of  the  Secundrabagh, 
223  et  seq.;  with  Sir  Colin 
Campbell's  relief  force  at  Luck- 
now, 234;  the  retreat  to  Cawn- 
pore, 252  ;  on  the  Ridge  at 
Delhi,  274-292  ;  reminiscences 
of  Nicholson,  294,  301-302, 
322-23  ;  in  the  great  assault 
on  Delhi,  308-327;  in  Delhi, 
the  capture  of  the  Lahore 
Gate,  329-30  ;  at  the  taking  of 
the  King's  Palace,  332  ;  on  the 
shooting  of  the  princes,  341  ; 
in  the  recapture  of  Lucknow, 
351,  368 

Roberts,  Major,  61 

Rohilcund,  48,  346 

Rose,  Sir  Hugh,  346 

Ross,  drummer-boy,  233 

Rule,  362 

Russell  (of  the  Times),  243,  352, 
353,  365 

Russell,  69 

Ryan,  Private,  208 

Sabzi  Mundi,  Delhi,  330 
Sago's  house,  Lucknow,  164 
Salkeld,  Lieutenant,  312,  313 
Saunders,  Captain,  164 
Savada  -  house,     Cawnpore,     116, 

122 
Scott,  Major,  279,  303 
Scully,  Conductor,  41  et  seq. 
Sealkote,  295 
Seaton,  Colonel,  285 
Secundrabagh,  Lucknow,  214,  352, 

362  ;    storming   of   the,   220  ct 

scq.;  slaughter  of  Sepoys  in  the, 

226  et  seq. 
Seetapore,  51 
Selingarh  Fort,  Delhi,  331 


INDEX 


3^3 


Seppings,  Captain,  122 

Sewell,  Lieutenant,  174 

8hah  Jelianpore,  51 

Shah  Nujeef,  mosque,  Lucknow, 

214,  3G2  ;    the  assault  on  the, 

229  ct  seq. 
Shaw,  Conductor,  41  ct  scq. 
Silver    Bazaar,    Delhi,    .'UG,    330, 


Simpson,  Colonel,  G5  et  scq. 

Singh,  Golab,  9 

Singh,  Kajah  Maun,  12 

Skinner,  James,  315 

Smith,  30,  313 

Colonel,  59 

Colonel  Baird,  takes  charge 

of  tlie  engineering  operations  at 
Delhi,  287,  301  ;  insists  on  the 
necessity  of  holding  Delhi  after 
the  assault,  327 
Major  Percy,  354 


Spake,  319 
Spottiswoode,  Colonel,  63 
Spurgin,  Captain,  75 
Steel,  Mrs.,  294 
Stephenson,  130 
Stewart,  Sergeant,  41  et  seq. 
Stirling,  101 

Major,  125,  134,  251 

*' Story  of  Two  Noble  Lives,"  the, 

287 
Sullivan,  Private,  121 
Sutlej  Campaign,  68 
Swat,  hills  of,  294 

Tantia Topee  (theXana's  general), 
IG,  371  ;  organises  the  Cawn- 
pore  massacre,  110;  controls 
its  execution,  113  ;  narrow 
escape  at  the  battle  of  Futteh- 
pore,  128  ;  commands  the  Gwa- 
lior  contingent,  239  ;  attacks 
Windliaui    at    Cawnpore,    244  ; 


defeated  by  Sir  Colin  Campbell 
2G0 

Teeka  Sing,  138 

Temple,  Sir  Richard,  9,  18  ;  inter- 
views with  the  King  of  Belli i, 
337 

Terai,  51 

Thomason,  51 

Thomson,  Mowbray,  in  the  siege 
of  Cawnpore,  100  ct  scq.;  escapes 
the  Cawnpore  massacre,  117  ; 
wounded,  118  ;  reaches  British 
lines,  121 

Thornhill,  51,  139 

I'inics,  the,  352 

Timour,  the  House  of,  335,  342 

Tombs,  Major,  283,  284,  289 

Travers,  Major,  220 

Trevelyan,  Sir  George,  5,  12  ;  his 
"  Cawnpore,"  7,  84  ct  scq. 

Trotter,  Captain,  "  Life  of  John 
Nicholson,"  294,  295,  321 

Tucker,  Commissioner,  73 

Robert,  78 

Tulloch,  183 

Turner,  Captain,  118 

Tytkhana  at  Lucknow,  178 

Tytler,  Eraser,  assistant  quarter- 
master-general to  Havelock  iu 
the  advance  on  Cawnpore,  125  • 
with  the  Lucknow  relief  force, 
189,200;  at  Havelock's  funeral, 
23G 

Tytler,  277 

Stanley  Dellii  Force,  277 

Umballa,  44,  48,  53  ;  the  bnse 
for  Delhi,  270,  303  ;  council  of 
war  at,  273 

ViBART,  Colonel,  interviews  the 
King  of  Delhi,  10;  "The  Sepoy 
Muliny,"  37  ;    in   the  massacre 


3S4 


INDEX 


at  the   Cashmere  Gate,   Delhi, 
37-40 
Vibart,  Major,    holds  the    Redan 
at  Cawnpore,  98  ;  escapes  to  the 
boats,  112,  116;  death,  119 

Wale,  350 

WaJpole,  R.,  with  Windham  at 
Cawnpore,  251 ;  at  the  battle  of 
Cawnpore,  255 ;  at  the  recap- 
ture of  Lucknow,  351 

Water  Bastion  at  Delhi,  307,  311 

Webster,  200 

Wemyss,  319 

Weston,  Captain,  1G3 

Wheeler,  General  Sir  Hugh,  liis 
reassuring  telegram  to  Calcutta 
as  to  the  safety  of  Cawnpore, 
86  ;  hands  over  the  Treasury  to 
the  custody  of  Nana  Sahib,  86  ; 
returns  reinforcements  to  Luck- 
now,  88  ;  bad  choice  of  position 
for  defence  of  Cawnpore,  88-89, 
263  ;  the  siege,  90-110;  Sepoys 
attack  his  entrenchments,  98  ; 
death  of  his  son,  105  ;  appeals 
to  Lawrence  for  help,  106  ;  the 
Nana  offers  him  terms  for  sur- 
render, 108  ;  capitulation  of 
the  garrison  arranged,  109  ; 
evacuates  his  entrenchments, 
111  ;  his  death  in  the  massacre, 
114 

Whiting,  Captain,  109,  118 

Widdowson,  Bridget,  102 

Wilberforce,  R.  G.,  "  Unrecorded 


Chapter  of  the  Indian  Mutiny," 
80-82,  326-27 

Wilde,  331 

Willoughby,  Lieutenant,  defends 
and  blows  up  the  great  maga- 
zine at  Delhi,  38,  41  et  seq., 
265,  328 

Wilson,  Captain,  149 

Colonel,    with    Sir    Henry 

Lawrence  at  Lucknow,  150,  153, 
167,  168 

General,  251 

General     Archdale,     7 ;     at 

Meerut,  30;  assumes  command 
on  the  Ridge  at  Delhi,  287; 
contemplates  abandoning  the 
siege  of  Delhi,  300-302  ;  rein- 
forcements arrive,  302-303 ;  the 
great  assault  and  capture  of 
Delhi,  305-330  ;  hesitates  whe- 
ther to  hold  the  city  or  not, 
325-27  ;  spares  the  King's  life, 
334  ;  at  the  recapture  of  Luck- 
now, 351 

Windham,  General,  holds  Cawn- 
pore, 239  ct  scq.;  engages  Tantia 
Topee  and  the  Gwalior  contin- 
gent, 244  ct  scq. 

Wolseley,  Lord,  at  the  storming 
of  the  Shah  Nujeef,  230 

Wood,  359 

Sir  Evelyn,  211 

Wynne,  364 

YOUNGHUSBAND,  296 

Yule,  Colonel,  284 


Printed  by  Ballantyne,  Hanson  &^  Co. 
Edin burgh  &=  London 


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